Mortal Kombat: Invasion
by Shadaloo
Summary: The events taking place through the end of MKII, to the end of MKIII, through the eyes of Earth and Outworld's champions.
1. Prologue: Stories To Be Told

**PROLOGUE: Stories To Be Told**

"You...amuse me."

The Dark Emperor wiped at the trickle of blood that dripped down his chin. He looked at it, smeared on his thumb, and inwardly scowled with rage. Not since he had fought the late king Jerrod had he felt pain...it was an odd sensation for him, something long forgotten. It was not unwelcome however...the feeling of anger it brought out made him thirst for his opponent's death even more. He looked over at the brash young upstart who had dared to challenge him, and grinned.

The man's name was Liu Kang. Mid-twenties, Asian, and a fire in his eyes that could make the most vicious of dogs back away in respect after gazing into them. He stood on the balls of his feet, shifting back and forth, eyes never leaving the tyrant's, a look of grim determination set on his face. It was he who had overcome all obstacles, all adversaries, all injuries. It was he who had overcome the Shokan prince Goro, he who had bested the great Kung Lao so long ago. It was he who had stood face to face with the demon sorcerer, Shang Tsung, and overcome him and his deceptions as well.

It was he who was the immortal champion of Mortal Kombat.

Shao Kahn, the Emperor of Outworld, that dying wasteland of misery and desolation, awaited a response. He received none.

"Not too eager to talk, are we? Well, you'll be screaming for mercy after this..."

In his hand, a green light danced. That light elongated, and transformed into a spear made of pure energy, which Kahn hurled at his enemy. It was one of his favorite energy-manipulation techniques, and had felled more than several foes.

To his surprise, this 'Liu Kang' not only dived toward the spear, but rolled under it, and caught Kahn in the heel with a sweep. The Emperor stumbled back, and before he could even regain his footing, was hit square in the face by his challenger's fist.  The faceplate of his helmet, with the Skull motif that he loved so much, bent inward with the impact, and blood flowed from his nose.

The crowd roared. They loved a good fight.

They stood in the middle of Shao Kahn's sacred Arena, with an audience of a good 10, 000 of Outworld's numerous deformed, mutated citizens watching, and roaring their approval whenever either fighter connected with a blow - of course, their cheers were especially loud whenever their Emperor made a successful attack. Whether this was out of fear for their own safety, should they choose to support the challenger, or because they really loved their King, no one could be sure. Probably the former. Nevertheless, they cheered. And the battle raged on. Both warriors were looking bruised and bloodied, and each sought a way to end it in the quickest way possible. But they could find no weak link in the other's armor to exploit. They just kept pounding on each other, until finally, the dark lord dashed forward with every last bit of energy he had left in him, and slammed straight into the challenger's midsection with enough force to lift him into the air, through which he flew until a brick wall ended his course. His skull smacked into the stone, and for a moment, he appeared dead as he slid down the wall, coming to a halt at the very bottom, head down.

The crowd went mad with applause as their Emperor raised his fist in triumph. And, as always, they let out their traditional cry...

"FINISH HIM!"

Shao Kahn smiled, and began to walk over to his inert opponent - at least, 'walking' was the impression that he tried to give off. He ached all over, and he was certain he had dislocated an ankle. 

"FINISH HIM!"

The challenger, this Liu Kang, did not move.

"FINISH HIM!"

Finally, he stood over his defeated opponent, and looked down at him.

"FINISH HIM!"

The audience was lively today - understandably so, because it was not often that one issued a challenge to Shao Kahn. It was even rarer that he accepted. Usually, even the weakest of his soldiers was enough to wipe away whatever madmen sought to defeat the Emperor. But this one....

"FINISH HIM!"

...this one was a danger, and could not be allowed to live. He had bested prince Goro, Shang Tsung, and would probably have defeated general Kintaro as well, had Raiden not intervened, and destroyed the Shokan himself, at the last minute. He almost laughed. His decision to appease his fans' bloodlust by actually fighting was proving to be a most painful one indeed. Even though Tsung's plot did call for Kahn to destroy his enemies personally, he never had any intention of doing battle himself. He trusted his loyal servants would be enough to overwhelm the scurrying little Earth-rodents. And at the worst case, there were always his mighty Shokan fighters...but no, he reminded himself, Goro was apparently dead - and Kintaro was now nothing more than ashes scattered over the floor, courtesy of the Thunder God, who was watching the duel from an alcove high above. Tsung had stepped forward to fight, but had not fared well. He might have been killed as well, had Kahn not stepped up to finally do battle, awarding Kang the victory.

"FINISH HIM!"

But was it because this young man was exceptionally powerful, or because his warriors were weak? He began to question the necessity of the Shokan race...and of certain 'important' servants, one of which was seated on the grass nearby, slowly recuperating from the gashes and bruises sustained during his battle. Tsung had performed horribly, worse than the first time the two of them had met. 

_Pathetic,_ Kahn thought. _Even with the renewed youth I have granted him, he still cannot defeat a lowly worm from the Earthrealm. I will have to…speak with him._

"FINISH HIM!"

Time for that later. For now....

"You fought well. My people have not showered such praise on a foreign warrior since generations before your birth."

He clenched his fist, and it pulsated with green, glowing energy.

"I will give them something else to applaud...your death will be so violent, that the talespinners will talk of how the mightiest of men fell ill at the sight of your end...goodbye!"

He brought his fist back. The crowd hollered.

And Liu Kang stopped being dead and rolled from his position to stand directly before the emperor, and slam him in the chest with a palm strike of immense power. The crack was quite audible.

"A - k..... agh...."

The green flame died out. And the fire in Kang's spirit blazed as he assaulted Kahn with a flurry of attacks - an elbow to the gut, followed by a roundhouse to the chin, and a backhand to the face, all of which connected.

Kahn toppled back, his eyes closed in pain for an instant. He opened them -

- and saw Kang coming down from his cartwheel. Both his heels connected with the emperor's face, as did the ferocious uppercut.

The next thing Kahn saw was the sky, as he fell backward, and collapsed onto the ground.

The crowd was absolutely silent.

So was U.S. Special Forces Agent Sonya Blade, from her viewing point in chains at the right side of Kahn's throne in the center of the arena. But a smile was on her face.

The criminal and murderer Kano, chained as well, on the opposite side, looked on in disbelief and awe.

Kahn got up, very slowly, and looked Liu Kang, champion of Mortal Kombat, in the eye.

_I cannot believe I am saying this…but it is all I can do. I have nothing left…he has my life in his hands, and he knows it. I must prey upon his weakness…his sense of honor. He will not fight, if he has been awarded victory…_

He spoke with a voice loud enough for all who watched to hear.

"KNOW THIS! You have fought well, warrior of Earthrealm. You have even made me feel a drop of sweet pain...."

The onlookers remained silent, listening to their wise and benevolent lord's words.

"But, you have succeeded to do little more than irritate me. I am the immortal lord, Shao Kahn...I am the conqueror of worlds. To me...you are little more than an insect."

The audience began to cheer again, but Kahn raised his hand for silence. They complied.

"However, your tenacity is admirable, as is your skill and technique. That is why..."

Silence. 

"I award you...with my blessings, and respect. Go, now. Go, and tell your people that you stood face to face with the universe's most powerful being, and lived to tell the tale. Go now...Liu Kang."

Silence, as they watched and waited, for what would happen next.

Liu Kang stared hard at Shao Kahn.

And he walked toward him.

_He's not falling for it…he knows…it is…over…_

The warlord, and the onlookers, watched, as the Earth-realm warrior stopped before the emperor. Kahn awaited it...the finishing blow...the strike that would end his life....

What he received instead was a bow.

Liu Kang stood bowed before him, hands together steepled before his chest.

The crowd's applause was deafening. As much as they loved chaos, they loved an honorable fighter as well.

_The fool! He doesn't know! He truly does fear-_

He was stopped short, as he heard Kang's words - only he could hear them, only he could even know that the former member of the White Lotus Society was even speaking - his hair was dangling below his chin, no one could even see his face. But his face, the emperor did not have to see, to hear....

"Shao Kahn....I leave you with three things. The first, my gift to you. The appearance of victory. Satisfy your ego as you will. The second, my mark - know that you have been bested today - I know that for one such as yourself, defeat is worse than death. That, and only that, is why I will not execute you here. The third, my warning-"

Here he raised his head just enough so that his eyes could meet Kahn's.

"-if you ever again attempt an invasion of my home world, I can assure you...the talespinners will talk of how the mightiest of Kings, the ruler of Outworld, was utterly and totally destroyed by a mere mortal - and your name will be synonymous with 'embarrassment' throughout the annals of time, forever more."

And with that Liu Kang rose, turned, and walked away from Shao Kahn, away from the multitudes, back to his friends who awaited him.

The crowd began to disperse, as the applause slowly died down.

Shao Kahn said nothing, but turned and walked to his throne. He sat.

A servant came bearing food and drink. He waved him away. He just wanted to be alone. He was hungry, but didn't care.

Tsung was screaming something, off to his right. He didn't care.

He heard chains snap and fall. Someone was freeing his prisoners. He didn't care.

All he cared about now was the best possible way to make Kang regret the mistake of leaving him alive. That, and rest. He was tired. So tired.

As he slowly drifted off, exhaustion taking its toll, he contented himself with his own black thoughts.

_You will pay for this indignity, Kang. So swears Shao Kahn._

_All of Earth will pay…_


	2. Chapter 1: Warning

**CHAPTER I******

**Warning**

One week later...

"So, gentlemen, that's how it is. Unless action is taken against this threat, all life on Earth as we know it is at serious risk. Questions...?"

Major Jackson "Jax" Briggs stood at the head of the conference table. He took in each government representative standing before him, assured that he had captivated their attention, if nothing else. After all, it's not every day that you call a meeting with some of the top names in American security - Sanders, head of the CIA, Green, head of the FBI, Grant and Mandoz, two of the president's chief advisers - hell, just about every big name in military brass was here. Ordinarily, they'd never even consider attending a meeting by one of such insignificant rank (in comparison to theirs, at least), but the fact that he had stressed the matter as being one of global security caught their attention fast. Even then, Jax had been asked to send a report on his concerns, but the Major had insisted that a meeting be called - pronto - so that he could inform the generals and security chiefs, etc. of just what held the Earth in peril.

So the meeting was called.

And he'd told them, and they were all staring at him. Maybe - because they had no idea such a threat even existed, they were that surprised?

Yes, they were certainly staring at him because of what he'd said.

After an uncomfortable silence, Jax deduced quite correctly that it was for the wrong reason.

They were staring at him because they thought he was an ass.

Sanders removed his glasses, and massaged the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes. "So...what you're telling us...Mr. Briggs...is that the Earth is in danger of being invaded by a warlord from a...dimension, another world...that we've never even heard of...?"

Jax didn't fail to notice the lack of the addition of rank to his name. He ran his hand across the back of his head, an open sign of nerves. Sweatbeads formed on his dark forehead. His moustache itched. "That is correct. The warlord's name is Shao Kahn. He holds enough power to make this world a living hell  - given the opportunity, he will open a portal to this world, march on through, and suck the soul from every living being on the planet, sir."

"Answer me this, then, Major-" Green leaned forward in his chair slightly, his bald head shiny and reflective under the room's lights. "If he holds so much power, as you say, why has he not invaded already?"

This was going to be gooooood. He'd probably be heavily sedated before the hour was through. " In order to gain access to a world, Kahn's warriors - his martial arts champions - must win ten straight victories in a tournament of the gods called Mortal Kombat, sir."

Mandoz looked at him as if he'd just turned into a large lobster.

"And....they haven't won them here? Tell me, major - where are these tournaments held? And how do his servants get in, if he can't?"

Jax wondered silently just how tight the straitjacket would be. "The Tournaments are held on an island that does not show up on any map of the Earth. The Emperor, while unable to enter himself, is able to send servants of his through smaller portals in his stead. From my understanding, he sent one of his sorcerers through, some time ago, to compete in these tournaments in favor of Outworld. He won each time, until recently, when he was defeated by a former White Lotus Society member known as Liu Kang."

Green smiled too politely. "The Emperor must be a big fellow, then?"

Straightforward mockery. This was getting better by the second. "It is not a question of mass, but one of energy - I don't know the specifics myself, sir. However, I do believe that if we gather a team of scientists, we may be able to-"

Sanders cut him off, leaning back in his chair and scratching his small goatee.

"So tell us again, Major - exactly what were you doing there?"

"I went there without knowing what I was getting into. My friend and partner, Lieutenant Sonya Blade, was apparently forced into the tournament unwillingly. She and her unit never returned, so I went after h - them...I found her. Chained at the Emperor's side, along with the criminal she had chased to the tournament in the first place, the Black Dragon member, Kano."

"You freed her? What about the rest of the unit?"

"They were apparently killed. I freed her, yes."

"So, where is she now? Surely, she can help to back up these...claims of yours."

"She is currently pursuing Kano across northern Illinois, sir."

"Wait, hold on a moment. Didn't you say he was imprisoned, too? Why didn't you take him in?"

"When I broke the chains that held Lieutenant Blade, Kano's mysteriously snapped as well. I don't know how. He fled through the portal, and we followed him."

"They were both prisoners of this Shao Kahn, weren't they? Why didn't he stop you?"

Green was chuckling. Jax tried to ignore him.

"He was temporarily weakened, sir. Liu Kang was there as well, and he beat him. Kahn wouldn't admit it, but Kang beat him to the point of near death. While he fell asleep on his throne, I freed the Lieutenant - and inadvertently, Kano as well."

"Near death? Well, from the looks of it, it doesn't sound like he's in much of a position to conquer Earth, now does it?" Grant smiled as he chomped his unlit cigar, adjusting his belt. Jax wondered if his gut wouldn't plop off of his body and roll down the hallway in search of a cheeseburger.

"Not at the moment, but it is my firm belief that Kahn will not take this lying down. I think that he will attempt an invasion of Earth through some other means, and that is why we must learn how to open a portal to Outworld ourselves, and go on the offensive in order to-"

"I've heard enough." Green got up, and smoothed out the wrinkles on his suit. "I'm not listening to this crock of a story a minute longer. I have better things to do. Maybe Spielberg would buy it, but I won't. Good day, gentlemen."

He walked to the door, and opened it. The others got up, too.

"Sirs, you MUST listen to me. This threat is REAL. I am aware that my report comes off as unseemly, but I can assure you-"

Sanders faced him, and waved him off. "Mr. Briggs, I'm sure that you believe this threat is real. But you lack hard proof. You have no evidence to back up your story. If I believed you in the slightest, I would already be calling for the national guard. But the fact is, I don't. You said it yourself: this whole thing sounds like a load of bullshit. Take my advice, Major - go home and get some rest. You look like you need it."

He walked out, following Green, who was already well down the corridor.

Just as he thought. They all thought he was mad as a VW stuffed full of hatters.

Grant said something derogatory, and left.

Mandoz followed him, but turned back halfway out the door. He looked at Jax, who now sat slumped over at the head of the table on which he rested his elbows, holding his head. "Question, Major."

Jax looked up, suddenly hopeful. "Yes...?"

"What does this...Kahn...look like?"

"Ah...well...he...well, he wears a skull, and..."

Mandoz gave him the lobster look again, shook his head, and followed Grant out.

The door creaked shut. Jax threw back his head, closed his eyes, and sighed.

_Sonya, you'd better damn well be having better luck at whatever the hell you're doing then I am..._


	3. Chapter 2: Fled

**CHAPTER II******

**Fled**

 She had been chasing him on foot for the better part of two hours, now. Her feet hurt, her breathing was labored, and she was ready to break the jaw of the very next lowlife who got in her way, trying to pick her up. That had happened twice in the past hour, and she almost found herself wishing that it would happen again. At least that way she'd have a legitimate reason for injuring a citizen. Interfering with military personnel was grounds for immediate detainment. Imprisonment, even.

 During the course of Lieutenant Sonya Blade's pursuit of the Black Dragon member, she'd knocked over three or so passerby on the street, unintentionally of course. The first had been a man in a business suit who had yelled something about calling a lawyer. Second was some stupid blonde bimbo - reinforcing stereotypes and chewing bubblegum loudly, in fact - who had made the mistake of not moving when the Lieutenant had ordered her aside. No, instead, she'd looked her up and down, as if she was some tramp, and made an unimpressed-sounding noise. That young lady had been unceremoniously shoved into a nearby lamppost for her troubles.

 Then, there had been the unfortunate senior citizen, who had been having a bit of trouble getting her other foot up onto a curb. Sonya hadn't even seen her, intent as she was on capturing her quarry. She'd actually run straight into her -  her eyes had been fixated on Kano, who was already across the street, and running fast, not caring who he knocked down. She had a soft spot for the elderly, so against her better judgment, she'd spent a valuable minute helping the poor old woman up whilst apologizing all the way. That had been five minutes ago, and she hadn't seen Kano since. Still, she kept pressing onward, hoping that her instincts were right. Kano wasn't one to simply run for his life, he played games with his pursuers, staying just out of reach. Close enough to see, too far away to nab. He was overconfident, and that was his weakness. Sonya intended to capitalize on it.

_OK...think, Sonya. Where would I be...if I were him..._

 She kept on, her gut telling her that he'd come this way. She was out of the main streets now, the thoroughfare behind her. The slums, a back alley...that's where she was. Five or six apartment complexes, on each side. Nice and dark, plenty of places to hide at this time of night. She unholstered her pistol, and breathed slowly, ears intent for any sound, any motion...any clue...

 She brushed a loose lock of blonde hair behind an ear, and took two cautious steps forward...that open doorway. There. No light whatsoever. He was right there...had to be.

 And then she saw it, in the distance, inside the building, glowing dully. The single dot of red. That fucking eye of his.

_Got you._

 She raised her gun. "There's no running this time, Kano. Come out...nice and slow. You're finally under arrest, you murderer."

 Not a sound. Not a word.

 This wasn't right. He would have something to say, he always did...

 A thought occurred to her. Not lowering her gun, she scooped her night-vision goggles from her belt, and brought them up.

_That's it, baby...take a good, close look._

 He slowly unsheathed the knife from its place on his boot, and brought it to bear, grasping it by the very tip of the blade. He brought his arm back.

 The goggles draped everything in a blood-red curtain. She saw clearly, the pipes, the fixtures, the trash bin inside the room...and the small back box at eye level on top of it that was devoid of features save for a small LED, its only purpose being to glow...

 He threw it.

_A decoy. He's..._

 She heard it, and ducked in time to see it whizz through the air and embed itself into the brick. A half second later, and that would have been her head. Without pause, she turned, and fired off three rounds at the stairwell in the shadows. Three pings told her no. Saw his eye for real this time, blazing a streak of red like a sniper rifle's sight as he moved. Heard him laughing, laughing as he jumped off the balcony, hit the top of another dumpster, jumped from that and dashed back out into the city streets at the other end of the alley.

 "Dammit! KANO!"

 She ran after him. Holstered her gun, and pulled her radio out from under the vest which covered her black, green and white SF uniform. It had been set to the Chicago Police Department's frequency. She dialed as she ran, jumping on the hood of a parked car, and across the street. She could still see him. Two rings, and a bored female voice answered.

 "Lieutenant Sonya Blade, USSF, to CPD, over."

 "We read you, Lieutenant. Can we have some ID, over."

 She screamed inwardly, and wished she could reach through time and space to smack the receiving officer, whoever she was. 

 "Code 709BLAD-68. That good enough for you?"

 "Just a moment, please...yes, ID confirmed. What can we do for-"

 "Stow it! I'm on 25th and Parkway heading north on foot, pursuing a wanted fugitive. Can't open fire, risk of civilian injury. I need backup NOW, over."

 "Got you, Lieutenant. We'll send our nearest cars to pick you up, form some roadblocks."

 "Give me a chopper, too."

 The voice, which had gone from bored to alert, now sounded skeptical. "A...chopper?"

 "You heard me. You don't know who we're dealing with, here. That's an order."

 This talk was slowing her down. She hung up, and ran even faster, if that was possible. The crowds were thick here - they were slowing him down, too. His trail was easy to see now, she just had to follow the people he knocked over.

 She just hoped he hadn't stabbed any of them.

 Sonya was saved from her morbid thoughts. Not 10 meters away, she saw his head shining under a streetlight, and actually cracked a smile.

"OK, you bald bastard. I'm coming. Just you wait."


	4. Chapter 3: Trek

**CHAPTER III**

**Trek**

"You appear troubled, my friend."

 The grey-suited ninja stopped in his tracks, and turned to look back at his comrade, dressed identically, except with a light shade of blue, replacing the grey over the shin pads, loincloth, overmantle and face mask. The masks were the only unique thing about each outfit. The one in blue had a mask with six small slashes, decreasing in size as they descended, three on each side, over where the nose and mouth would be, on a section that slightly protruded from the face. The grey one wore a mask with narrow indentations running from each jaw up to the protrusion, which seemed to contain nothing so much as what appeared to be a very fine lining of wire mesh. It looked like some sort of air filter.

"Hm? No, no, I am fine, Smoke. Merely ruminating on...recent events."

 Smoke eyed his ally a second longer. "Nothing you wish to speak of?"

"Not as such...no."

"As you wish, Sub-Zero. Let us continue on, then…"

 Sub-Zero followed Smoke up the rocky hill. It was the fifth day of their long travel back to Lin Kuei headquarters, buried deep in the mountains of central China. He had been quiet for most of the trip - that was unusual, and he knew that Smoke knew that. Although general conversation was frowned upon back at the Lin Kuei's base of operations, whenever in the presence of his longtime friend - his only true friend - Smoke, Sub-Zero could talk for hours. But he had spent this trip in, for the most part, silence. And he had good reason. He was indeed troubled, and deeply so.

 During his stay in Outworld, Sub-Zero had learned a great many things. Not of the layout of the land, or the history of the people - these things the Lin Kuei had extensive records of, which all members had been made to study. What Sub-Zero had been sent to Outworld for, among other things, was answers. Answers to two questions. The fate of his older brother, also named Sub-Zero, who had not returned from his mission to assassinate the sorcerer Shang Tsung. And, the status of the mission itself. That was the other thing he had been sent for; if Tsung was indeed still alive, he was to complete the task himself. 

 But he had been unable to do so. Before he could get anywhere near Tsung...something had stopped him. That something questioned him. That something spoke with him. That something...or someone, if it were indeed still a man...had fought with him.

 But that something had not pursued the fight to its conclusion. It broke off, and that something disappeared into the cold night air, which shimmered above the dimly-lit marble bridge where it had encountered him.

 Sub-Zero was no stranger to specters - at least, not to stories of them. But, to actually be there, to speak with one...he almost shuddered.

_And was it the one who killed my brother…?_

 He shook the thought off. At any rate, he remembered also that before he could complete his mission, a battle had broken out in Kahn's arena. He watched from the shadows, as the man from the Order of Light, Liu Kang, defeated Shao Kahn after a remarkably long fight.  That was something he'd have to report to his superiors, as well - very soon, their dealings with Outworld might be with a different ruler entirely. If Kahn could be bested that easily-

_ No_, he thought.  _Kahn will have vengeance for this...I had, in all likelihood, better inform the headmasters that a war might very well be in plans..._

 Still, the fight in and of itself was not what had stopped him from killing Tsung. In fact, he had had the sorcerer in his sights, and was preparing to throw the explosive ball of ice that he had formed in his hand - one of his favorite techniques, that he had improvised himself. It was primed, and ready to go as soon as it struck its target. And he had thrown it, too.

The only problem was that the second before he had let go, something had struck his arm, causing the ice grenade to go wide, missing Tsung by a clear three feet. It had only succeeded in making him yell orders to kill his would-be assassin. When he looked to his right, he had seen nothing. He still wondered what it could have been. 

Nevertheless, before he could find out, the thunder god had unfortunately sent them all back to their realm, albeit in different places. And so, Sub-Zero had no choice but to make his way back to the ruins of Shang Tsung's palace, where he had searched for what the specter had told him to, after meeting up with his closest friend and ally. Smoke had been sent along with Sub-Zero to do little more than wait for his return - and to leave if he had not come back from Outworld within twelve days. That way, the clan would know for certain that the assassination was a lost cause.

Smoke stopped again, and turned to him, after looking around. "We still have seven hours' more travel. However, it is getting dark...shall we make camp here for the night? I will stand watch, first."

Sub-Zero nodded, and they started to unpack. It was as good a place as any. Isolated, far away from anyone or anything that might happen upon them. They were on top of a mountain so steep that even the local goats might have had difficulty navigating it. Indeed, for the last two hours, they had been climbing almost straight up, and they were now at the top. Such mountains surrounded the Lin Kuei headquarters, making travel there almost impossible by foot. If you wanted something done by heir hand, you didn't find the Lin Kuei. You spread the word to the right people, and they found you.

After setting down upon the large, downy cloth Smoke had brought, and removing his mask, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to the item he'd located in Tsung's palace, where the Grandmaster had theorized it would be, if it could be found anywhere.

It didn't take him long to find it. Tsung was known for keeping odd things as ingredients for his formulas and spells. Surely,I _that/I _could have been put to some use.

So he took it with him, as evidence to the Grandmaster that his brother was truly dead.

He looked over at it now, the small knapsack that contained his brother's remains, where he had situated it, as far away as possible from him.

He turned away from it, and tried to sleep.

He couldn't. But he tried to pretend he was, anyway.

"Sub-Zero."

He opened his eyes to see Smoke looking off into the distance.

"Yes? What is it, friend?"

"...you know what."

He sighed, and got up.

"I am sorry. It is simply that...I...forget it, you would not understand."

Silence.

"I do not know what it is like to have any type of family. When the Lin Kuei took me, I was but a baby, as you were. But I was an only child. I cannot imagine the pain that you feel at losing him, but...you do have my condolences."

"..."

"I know that you told me that you didn't care for him. But, as humans, we cannot deny our feelings. You must miss him a bit...no?"

He sighed again.

"Perhaps. Perhaps I do. He was a murderer, and he had no conscience, at least, none that I ever saw. But he was still my brother...regardless, that is not all that troubles me."

"Then...why do you turn away from...?"

He formed a ball of ice in his hand, and rolled it around. Closed his eyes, and told him about the specter.

"...and it wanted to know why I spared that man…and when I told it that I did not take lives unless necessary…it just stopped fighting. And now, Smoke...now, I remember his eyes, and the fire behind them...and the aura of suffering I sense around him...and I wonder...what did he do, to deserve such a punishment? Is my brother suffering now, too? And…will I, when my time comes? Will you? That is why I cannot look at that bag."

Smoke looked at him, but didn't say anything.

"In all my life...I have never feared death, like the rest of the Lin Kuei, but...now...and especially after seeing his eyes..."

They remained silent for a time.

"I told you that you would not understand, or believe. You must think me mad." He chuckled.

"No."

Sub-Zero looked up at his friend again. Smoke removed his mask and smiled at him, his medium-length black hair blowing in the wind.

"I do not think you mad. I believe you. But you are right...I do not know if I can help you with this, but I will try. To start, I would consider myself quite the lucky one, if I fought with a dead man, and lived to tell the tale. I would think none would dare to challenge me." His grey eyes twinkled as he grinned.

The blue-clad ninja could not help but crack a smile. "Must you make light of everything?"

"And imagine what the servant girls in the nearby towns would think...the man so powerful, even the dead leap to fight against him...your harem would match the one the Grandmaster probably has."

At that, Sub-Zero laughed outright. "Harems of women. Is that all you talk about?"

"Talk about? Of course. It is all I think about, as well...."

Sub-Zero chuckled again.

"And dream about, and..."

"All right, all right, I understand. I am fortunate. Is that what you wish to hear?"

Smoke nodded.

"Very well. Take that victory, if you will."

He looked up at the night sky.

"But.."

Smoke cut him off, and when Sub-Zero looked at him again, his face was not quite the same. He was still smiling, but his smile was...different, somehow. So were his eyes.

"Sub-Zero...none of us know what awaits us after death. But the truth is, it does not matter. It is something you cannot change. Maybe he was just...unfortunate."

Sub-Zero was surprised. Usually, he was the one giving Smoke advice - serious advice, at any rate. This was new.

"Even so, that is beside the point." Smoke moved from his sitting position, and lay down to look up at the night sky. "Concern yourself with what you do have control over. Always remember the one thing that counts - never forget who you are, and always hold true to your own ideals. Treasure each passing day, no matter your actions, be it a day of rest, a day of travel, or a day of combat." 

Silence for a moment.

What I am, saying, Sub-Zero, is...worry about life. Death will take care of itself."

Sub-Zero was silent and pensive.

"That is all I can tell you. Sleep, my friend."

After taking in Smoke's words, Sub-Zero tried again to sleep. But he still couldn't.

_It is those eyes...more than anything else...those eyes, and the fire behind them..._

Slowly, he drifted away.

Smoke looked down at his friend, who had finally fallen asleep. He smiled to himself.

_You never notice how little oxygen is missing, and you eventually drift off..._

That was his preferred method of killing, first peacefully depriving his prey of life-sustaining oxygen by allowing small parts of his body to become ethereal, and slowly making the air very thin, without anyone the wiser. That would eventually knock them out. To kill, he would completely transform, and invade their lungs, suffocating them. But if all he needed was to put someone to sleep...then, that could be done as well.

_Fear not, friend. I will never be the one to bring you death. Ever. Sleep well._

_Tonight, I will stand guard._


	5. Chapter 4: Lights, Camera, Traction

**CHAPTER IV**

**Lights, Camera, Traction**

Six months later...

Johnny Cage walked down the narrow platform, his white sneakers making absolutely no sound as he took step after cautious step. His sunglasses were off - he couldn't afford to have his vision obscured here. To either side of the walkway was a river of acid - not the type that normally rained in some cities back on Earth, no - this stuff was pure. He idly wondered just how much time it would take to eat through one's skin. Then he looked at the bleached-white skeletons floating around on the surface, and decided it was probably better not to know.

"How do I get myself into these messes, anyway?" he muttered aloud, moving his head slightly to the side in order to avoid a dangling hook attached to the ceiling with a chain. There were several of these about, and one of them held what looked to be a ribcage. He really didn't want to know why.

He was thirty, well-built, rich, famous, the idol of millions, and at the moment, scared utterly shitless. To have been separated from that hot Kitana babe and his buddy Liu was bad enough, but this just made it worse. He didn't mind solitude, but...not here. Although he was more than certain he could handle whatever obstacles came his way, he had never believed more than now that there was safety in numbers. The ribcage told him that.

He stopped. Ahead of him were two metal doors, eight feet high and three feet wide, each. They appeared to be sealed.

He was debating on whether not to think about how to open these monstrosities, or not to think about what could be large enough to require their size for passage, when they slowly grinded open.

And what stood behind the doors convinced him that he was going insane. It **couldn't **be that bad. Not possibly.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"RAAAARGH!" The nomadic mutant Baraka bared his teeth.

"Ah, god...no...just...no....CUT! Stop the tape. I'm not doing this."

An alarm buzzed, and the studio lights went on.

"Cripes, Johnny! What is it NOW?!" The fat co-director wobbled over, talking into his megaphone, although there was no need. He wore tacky sandals, Bermuda shorts, and a T-shirt that was 2 sizes too small, unflattering at best. His hair was pulled back into a grey braid.

"Oh, come **on**. That guy looks NOTHING like Baraka! Who hired this guy?"

A thin man in a plaid shirt and thick-rimmed glasses sighed, and allowed his head to impact against a nearby steel girder prop. "But Mr. Cage, we made the suit to your exact specifications..."

"The SUIT?! You think his SUIT looks bad? Yes, the suit looks bad, but I'm not talking about that right now. I'm talking about HIM!"

"What's wrong with him?" The director looked genuinely puzzled.

"Yeah, what's wrong with me?" 'Baraka' said in a thick Brooklyn accent.

"I....(sigh)....Ok, look, when I fought Baraka, not only was he not 200 lbs. overweight, but his teeth didn't look like Lee press-on nails. They were silver, and very, very sharp."

As if to prove his point, one of the teeth fell out of the mask, and clattered onto the floor.

'Baraka' shrugged, mumbled something about extras, and ambled off towards the snack tray. Johnny sighed and hopped over the green muck towards the general direction of his dressing room. The co-director shuffled along beside him, and threw an arm over his shoulders. He smiled.

"OK, Johnny. You're the boss, after all. What should we do?"

Johnny stopped and considered. "Just...ok, first, let's work on making his teeth look real."

"Check."

"Second...hey, wardrobe guy!"

"...yes?" the man in plaid looked at them from down the corridor.

The suit has red trim, not blue. Got that?"

"Yes, sir. We can fix that up in a 'sec....quick dye job. Easy."

"Good." He turned back to the co-director. "Third..."

'Baraka' stuffed a donut into his mouth and belched. Johnny heard it.

"...get me someone more muscular, and fire him. Oh, and give the 'Taro 'bot  a bit more gore on the fangs, K'?"

The co-director looked up from his clipboard where he was scrawling something, and nodded. "Gotcha. But you gotta admit, Johnny...you could tell us these things sooner..."

"I know, Gabe, I'm sorry about that. Remember, I'm going as I move. All I'm working on here is memory." They started walking again.

"All of this happened when...?"

"Bout 7 months ago. But that's not it. It's just that...well...writing the script and acting at the same time is no problem, I can handle that. I did that for the first, remember?"

Gabe chortled. "Do I remember?" 'Mortal Kombat' made me a very wealthy man, Johnny!"

Johnny smiled. "Of course. But, now that I'm doing that, and directing, too...it's all a wee bit too much."

Gabe nodded grimly. "Everyone's first directing job is tough. But you can do it. Think, we've only got a couple more scenes to do, and it's a wrap."

"Why don't you...?"

Gabe held his palms up defensively. "We've been over this, Johnny. I've done martial arts movies from here to hell and back. I've done some of the best - 'Bloodrain", "Killers of Time" - but what we have here is not just a martial arts movie. It's more like sci-fi. I'm unfamiliar with that stuff..."

Johnny opened his door, walked in, and sat down." I know, I know. To be honest, I don't know if Stevie himself could help me bring what I saw onto the screen. That's the only reason I agreed to direct...but it's still action at the heart of it all...you should be..."

"That's why I signed on as **co**-director. I'm here to help. This project is yours, not mine. You should be directing your own experiences - it's just common sense. All of Hollywood thinks you're ready for this."

Johnny poured himself a cup of coffee. "I don't know if I am."

Gabe patted him on the back. "You are. Re-shoot in fifty?"

"If the dye's dry by then, yeah."

"OK. Enjoy your cup. Later - and, try not to let it get you down, OK?"

"I won't, thanks."

Gabe walked out, shutting the door behind him.

_How can I tell him? How can I tell anyone? The reason I'm stressed isn't because I'm directing. As if. Wish it were that easy._

He looked at himself in the mirror. Sighed.

_We've left it open for another sequel...and I'm worried that that just may be one feature based on a true story that may not have a happy ending. This isn't over. We could all see that. Why couldn't Liu?_

He exhaled loudly. Took another sip, and smiled.

_Ah, well. Whatever happens, I'll be ready. I'll be prepared._

He put his sunglasses on, and did a little closed fisted boxing stance for the fun of it, biting his lower lip in an attempt to look seriously goofy. Smiled again.

_And I'll look damn good while doing it, too._


	6. Chapter 5: Trial By Liar

**CHAPTER V**

**Trial by Liar**

 The courtroom was circular, the entire floor emblazoned with the familiar Dragon emblem that could be seen throughout Shao Kahn's grand palace. Black pillars at the edges of the circle supported the upper balconies of the room, from which the crowds - a very select few, invited by Kahn himself (flatterers and favor-seekers, he knew, but better to humor them for the time being) looked on silently. The 6 benches, which decorated the floor in two rows of three, housed the jury. At the dragon's head, behind an immense marble table built into the floor, the judge sat, completely enshrouded in a white robe with a black cloth draped over his face, which flowed from a tiara on the forehead. His hand, encased in a ruby-red glove, rested on a ball made entirely out of diamond on the table in front of him, which swirled and pulsated with energy. Two bailiffs guarded the entrance, chosen soldiers of Kahn's army that were permitted to wear special blue outfits, rather than the casual red. They each wore large, flat, jagged masks, and carried large spears. They remained silent. The shadows cast by the torches that adorned the walls made them seem all the more imposing.

 The defendant and plaintiff's tables were situated on opposite sides of the floor, separated by an iron cage which ran down the room's center, its top at level with the surface of the judge's table. At each of these tables, a figure sat. The plaintiff, a representative of the Outworld Supreme Council, one K'lanthe Ziang, and the defendant, the 10,000 year old heir to the throne of Outworld itself, the beautiful princess Kitana.

 She did not seem the least bit perturbed by her surroundings. She sat patiently, slender legs crossed, fingers entwined and resting on her lap. Her expression gave away nothing, there was nary a trace of anger or happiness in her full, red lips, or worry in her clear brown eyes, which twinkled when the light hit them after passing through the dragon-shaped window overlooking the whole spectacle. She moved only once, to smooth out the wrinkles in her velvet blue gown, adjust her earrings, push her hair behind her shoulders, and then quickly resumed her pose, attempting to ignore the cold bite of the iron chain around her right ankle, which kept her anchored to the table.

"All rise," the judge spoke, in a voice as brittle and dry as bones left for aeons in a wind-blown field. The entire room got to their feet.

"We are here today," he continued, "to conduct the trial of the Outworld Supreme Council against the princess Kitana of the house of Emperor Kahn.  The proceedings of this courtroom, not specific to this trial, have always been and will continue to be conducted for the benefit of the honorable invited guests of the Emperor, the participants in the cases, and this courtroom itself. Disclosure of the events which take place in this courtroom, or the discussion thereof, to any other parties is a criminal offence punishable under law M{} -/+\-, part V, section XVII. Do you all swear to uphold this law? Each and every last one of you, state your name, and swear it.

 One by one, each and every single person in the room rose, brought their left hand up, and swore. After this process, which took a full twenty minutes, the trial began in earnest.

 "Be seated." The judge turned his hooded gaze in Kitana's direction. "Princess Kitana, you have been charged by the Outworld High Council of Six with the following crimes: Conspiracy to overthrow your father, the Emperor Kahn, Conspiracy to assassinate your father, the Emperor Kahn, treason through allegiance with otherworldly forces, and the assassination of Mileena of the house of Emperor Kahn - your sister. How do you plead to these accusations?

Kitana stood, and faced the judge directly. She had no need for a lawyer - she had studied the law system vigorously, and would defend herself. "Your honor, I plead not guilty on all counts."

 "Very well. What do you have to say in your defense?"

 "I am, and have always been, loyal to my father. I would never dream of usurping his throne, for any reason, be it monetary, power-based, or otherwise. Let the records show that."

 The judge nodded slowly. "Indeed, your history shows no evidence of disloyalty toward the throne whatsoever. But, the prosecution intends to prove otherwise, as I am sure you are well aware. Have you anything else to say on your behalf?"

"No," She said. "I would allow the prosecution to state its case."

"Very well. K'lanthe Ziang?"

 Ziang, a braided, pale-skinned man of average build and height, stood. "Your honor. I have examined the facts in this case carefully, and I am confident that, with evidence and testimony, I can prove the defendant guilty on all counts."

Kitana watched Ziang, wondering silently what he could have against her. She knew, of course, that she was guilty of the crimes she'd been accused of, but it would do her appearance well, at the very least, to try to prove otherwise. It might even bring to light a sympathizer or two.

"The prosecution would like to call forth its first witness, the lady Scarlett, of Emperor Kahn's sorcerer's guild."

 Scarlett arose from her seat above, and walked down the spiral staircase to the prosecution's table. Her long, flowing black robe flowed behind her, at the moment unfastened so that her red battle garment underneath would show, shin guards, heels, and all.  She wore a hood, at the moment pulled back to reveal her lavender eyes, straight blonde hair, and thin, mirthful lips. From her collar, twin cloth straps sloped down to her knees, bearing yin-yang motif. She sat at Ziang's table, and smiled thinly at Kitana.

 The latter narrowed her eyes. Scarlett, she knew, would be out to prove her guilty at any cost. One of Shang Tsung's best students - a feature which required a great deal of cunning and guile. To boot, she had held a grudge against Kitana for some time, now, viewing her as the epitome of wasted potential. "So much skill", she had said once, "but such a soft heart..."

 That had probably been why she had chosen to assist Tsung in the creation of one particular subject...

"Lady Scarlett, describe your relationship with the late Mileena."

 Scarlett sighed - whether that was forced or not, Kitana could not tell. "I was always rather close to her," she said sadly, or convincingly enough. "We were practically best friends."

_Carrion of a feather,_ thought Kitana.

 "I see," said Ziang. "And your relationship with Kitana?"

"Well, Mileena always spoke very highly of her. But honestly...I could never see her in the same light. She has, in my opinion, always been too secretive. And, I think, jealous of her sister. Perhaps even...hateful towards her."

"Objection," called Kitana. "I bore no hatred toward Mileena. Only pity. These statements are nothing more than unfounded suspicion."

"Overruled," said the judge. "Continue, Lady Scarlett."

"I have never been too close to Kitana at all - I preferred to keep my distance. It is my belief that Mileena only wished to cover up for her sister by speaking so well of her. If my sorceress' intuition tells me anything, it is that she is indeed plotting against the Emperor...and there is no doubt in my mind that she murdered her sister, as well. I have seen her do battle, and she could kill anyone without a second thought - up to, and including the Emperor."

 "Objection", called Kitana a second time. These venomous statements stem from personal bias."

"Sustained. What bias?"

"Many years ago, Lady Scarlett offered to teach me the black arts - I, of course, refer to the practice of magick, permitted only to be used by those deemed of sound mind and spirit by the Emperor's own guild. As I had not taken the examinations, and was not qualified - it should be noted that her offer was a breach of safety regulations - I refused. She saw my refusal as an insult, and believed that I was under the impression that I was above her tuitive ability. She has held a grudge ever since."

Scarlett's glare spat nothing but poison.

"This court will take your statement into account, Princess. Why did you not bring this up sooner? This is a punishable offence, Lady Scarlett."

Ziang turned. "Objection. Kitana, and not Scarlett, is on trial here."

"Sustained. A hearing will be made upon a later date. For now...Kitana?"

"I was merely...covering for her, your honor. Please, consult with my father, and I am sure that he will grant her a pardon. Before you ask, I have no need to cross-examine. I have said all that is needed."

"Understood. You may step down, Lady Scarlett."

Scarlett rose, and walked back up the stairs to her seat without pause.

"Prosecutor Ziang, your next witness?"

"With your permission, your honor, I will allow lady Kitana the occasion to call a witness, if she so desires."

 Kitana nodded politely towards Ziang. She bore him no ill will - he was merely doing his duty to the courts, after all. Aside from being a fair prosecutor, he was also very polite to her. Admirable traits; other prosecutors she knew would be breathing down her neck, figuratively if not literally.

"Very well. Kitana, have you a witness?"

"Yes, your honor. Yes, I do."

She scanned the balcony's crowd, until she found the eyes of her closest friend.

"I would like to call forth the Lady Jade, of Emperor Kahn's elite guard."


	7. Chapter 6: In Friendship's Name

**CHAPTER VI**

**In Friendship's Name**

 All eyes turned to look upon her. She shifted back, her seat scraping against the floor as she did so. Arose, and walked to her right, through the crowd, towards the spiral staircase which led down to the floor. She headed down, her silken green dress dragging on the floor as she walked. When she reached the defendant's table, she bowed respectfully towards the judge, and sat in the vacant chair next to Kitana's. Nervously, she adjusted her fingerless aquamarine dress gloves, breathed deeply, and prepared to choose her words carefully, prepared to defend her best friend.

"Lady Jade," said Kitana after a nod, "how long have you known me?"

"Jade smiled. "My friendship with you has endured through 7,349 years, if my count is exact. We are childhood friends, you and I."

Kitana got up, and stood facing Jade. She could not walk about, due to her ankle bond, and it pained Jade inwardly to see this. "Throughout the time we have known each other, have you ever, in any way, seen me voice any displeasure towards the Emperor's rule?"

"I have not." She didn't like lying, but to openly admit that she was a party to Kitana's plans was to not only prove Kitana guilty, but also to sign her own death warrant. She could do without either of those. "Throughout the ages, I have never once beheld you even make the barest whisper of dissatisfaction on the subject of Emperor Kahn, or his wise rule. I have seen you unravel plots to overthrow him. I have seen you fight in his name. I have seen you even kill for him, yes. I have seen you pledge your allegiance to him. Without a shadow of a doubt, you are second to none when it comes to the loyal service of our beloved Emperor."

That was true, to an extent. She had seen all of these things, yes, and had done so alongside her best friend - but that was in the past. Ever since Kitana had recovered her memories, memories of her true father, King Jerrod, any loyalties to Shao Kahn were a falsehood - a well-practiced deception. Jade was the only other one in the castle who knew. When Kitana had told her, she didn't know what to think. For a long time, she considered so much - believing, disbelieving, allying with, betraying her friend, or even keeping neutral. Finally, she had decided to stick with her closest ally through thick and thin, to follow her into the depths of the netherrealm, if needs be.

 Only once she had made the decision had she realized how easy the choice was, all along.

"And what of Mileena?"

 Jade snapped herself out of her reverie. She folded her arms, and exhaled sharply. "I think I can speak on the behalf of Kahn's elite when I tell you that she will not be missed. She distrusted everyone, save for her precious Baraka. She saw even the simplest opening to a conversation as an invitation to a fight. Should you comment on the snow, she would agree that it would be lovely to flay you under. I am thankful that her holier-than-thou demeanour will from now on be absent from the palace halls, not to mention her constant bloodlust. I, for one...and yes, I do realize that it is looked down upon to speak this way of royalty, as she was, but...I for one, am glad she is dead."

 Murmurs and gasps spread throughout the crowd. Jade could very well be punished for this, but...it seemed worth it, to speak the whole truth, at least once. The judge clenched the diamond orb he had, and a red light burst forth in a visible shockwave that stopped a few feet off the table.

"There will be order in this court," he said icily. The rabble quieted.

"I thank you, Jade." Kitana smiled. You may step d-"

"One moment." Ziang got up from his chair, and walked to the fence separating the two sides. I would like to cross-examine, if I may."

Kitana and Jade exchanged a glance. Kitana nodded. She sat back down.

 "Lady Jade, during the time of the Emperor's own Mortal Kombat tournament, where were you? You were invited to participate, but declined. Why?"

Jade blinked. _What did he have? _She came up with something, and hoped against hope it would work.

"I...had my own affairs to look after."

"Such as lurking through the preferred battleground of the late prince Goro, back on Shang Tsung's island?" Ziang raised an eyebrow.

Whispers echoed through the crowd again.

_ How does he know? How much does he know?_ "Yes," she said, after a short pause. "I was searching the area for a clue as to the whereabouts of the prince's body - it was never found."

 "Were you indeed? That is odd - the Emperor appointed that task specifically, and exclusively to Noob Saibot. Did you not see him there? It was he who informed the Emperor of your whereabouts during that time. Kahn has permitted us to use his records for our own use, as I'm sure you are well aware...?"

_It figures, _thought Jade. Saibot was one of Kahn's top lap dogs. Nothing went on, of the smallest or greatest importance under Saibot's eyes, without the Emperor knowing about it. And, of course, bearing the skills of a ninja, and being completely camouflaged in black, Saibot was the perfect spy.

 "Yes, I am. But what do my whereabouts during the Emperor's tournament have to do with Kitana's trial?"

 Ziang smiled slightly. "Plenty, I'm afraid. Saibot also informed the Emperor Kahn that you appeared to be very tense, looking out for something, or someone. After traversing the easternly portal to the Earthrealm, doesn't one have to pass through Goro's battling grounds in order to reach Tsung's palace? And isn't it that very same palace where the decapitated body of Mileena was found?"

Jade's eyes narrowed. "What...are you saying?"

"Although it is true that Kitana was present through most of the tournament, she was absent for a day or so. After that day, no one saw Mileena. Kitana re-appeared, but Mileena did not. Everyone present at the tournament can vouch for that.

Jade frowned, "I...do not see your point. Even so, what does this have to do with me?"

"It would have taken Kitana far too long to dispose of the body someplace where it wouldn't be found, on her own. There were monks everywhere during the tournament."

Jade made it clear that she was tiring of Ziang's games. She said every word through gritted teeth. "So...what...are...you...saying...?"

"I'm saying that when Kitana knew she would have the chance to murder Mileena unnoticed, she called you along. She did the deed - could you have helped in some way? -  and you both disguised her body somehow. While she went back to the battlegrounds, you hopped on into the east portal, through Goro's lair, into Tsung's palace, and dumped the body where it wouldn't be found until later."

Jade stared at Ziang in shock. He was good, she had to admit. Very, very good.

The crowd was yelling now, on its feet. The judge's ball did little to quiet them.

"Objection!" called Kitana. "As you said, Ziang, I am on trial here!"

"Overruled, said the judge. "This is relevant to the case. Proceed."

"The both of you were in on this from the start, weren't you? Admit it."

"I will admit nothing, for you can prove nothing. This is all suspicion and theory."

"For now, yes. But we will know for sure in a matter of days - I have sent for a copy of the portal monks' scrolls dating to the days of the tournament. Do you not remember? Those monks who guard the portal take down records of all passengers and their possessions. When we find the inscription that shows your passage and your belongings, we will know for sure. What did you hide it in? A sack, perhaps, the body covered with food supplies? I hear that tomato juice makes a good cover for blood - "

"Objection," called Kitana again. "Your honor, he is badgering the witness."

"Sustained, said the judge. "Ziang, your point is made clear. Have you any further relevant questions to ask the Lady?"

"Not at this time, your honor."

"Then you may step down."

Jade arose, and she and Kitana shared a quick, nervous glance. She walked back up to her seat and closed her eyes. The prosecution had got it all right, down to the letter. She wondered whether the rumors about telepaths in the council might not have been true.

When she opened her eyes, Ziang was speaking again. He faced the jury.

"...one of the things that has been noticeably lacking in this trial, has been evidence, solid and concrete, At this trial's opening, I stated for the record, that I had evidence as well as testimony, that would prove Kitana guilty. That evidence will be presented in a moment.

_Evidence?_ Jade wondered. _What could he possibly have that could..._

_..._

_They couldn't have..._

"But first, I would like to bring one note to your attention. Upon examination of the body of the deceased, it was discerned that she was decapitated. However, I will also call to your attention that the severing of the head was done by a weapon. The cut is absolutely straight across, done with the precision of a meat cleaver.

"I have upon my person a copy of the widely available list of participants in the tournament. Of the 40 or so, 16 carried bladed weapons of some type. Of those 16, only four were left in the tournament the morning Mileena was last seen: The elite warrior Baraka, Captain Zeij of our majesty's shock troopers, the Earthrealm warrior Kung Lao, and the Princess Kitana."

"Zeij was seen battling the Earthrealm warrior Nimbus Terrafaux that day. That rules him out.

"Kung Lao fought against General Kintaro that morning. He barely escaped with his life."

"And while the very notion of Baraka being the murderer is absurd - he was Mileena's beloved, after all - he had a bout against the Earthrealm fighter Johnny Cage that began at noon, and lasted for a full two hours. After his loss, he was brought to the infirmary, where he spent the next week recovering."

Jade closed her eyes. She knew where this was going.

"That leaves Princess Kitana - who disappeared for most of that day. The last time she was seen was around 2:00 P.M, heading towards the Living Forest, where Mileena had been fighting. The monks dare not to venture into the forest, being the superstitious lot that they are - that is why battles there are usually to the death. The winner emerges from the forest alone, and the monk on duty takes down the name.

"But the monk on duty there reported that Mileena did not come back out, nor did her opponent."

The doors opened, and a bare-chested nomad came in holding a small leather sack.

_Oh, gods, NO._

Jade knew what was inside.

Ziang walked over to the nomad, and took the sack from him. He untied the fastenings.

"This was found on the outskirts of the forest three days ago."

He reached in, and pulled out the contents.

There was an audible gasp throughout the room, and Jade experienced a rush of horror, guilt, and regret such as she had never known as the hollowing, decaying eyes stared in her direction, eyes that had registered so much surprise when-

_-she appeared from behind a tree, seconds after Mileena had sunk her sai through her opponent's throat, a minor Earth fighter of little skill or importance._

_"What are YOU doing here?" Mileena had sneered._

_"Waiting," Jade replied._

_"For what?"_

_"Something I've wanted to see for a long time."_

_"And that is?"_

_"Your death."_

_Mileena was about to attack her, when Kitana had leaped out of the dense foliage, her fan intent on cleaving her sister's skull neatly in two. Mileena blocked it, smacking it away with one of her sais' tips. She pressed her attacker back, aiming several slashes to Kitana's unmasked face, which were all dodged at the last possible moment. She was doing well, but she wasn't paying nearly enough attention as she should have been. For Jade kept on pacing around, watching the fight, seeking the best possible angle. And so it was, that after no more than five minutes of battle, just after Kitana had received a kick to the face which pushed her back a foot or two, Mileena had attempted to throw one of her sais at Jade's face. That was her fatal mistake, as Jade caught it...and tossed it into the wood. That moment of distraction was all it took, as Kitana closed one of her fans, and purposefully swung it downward, knowing that Mileena would instinctively parry, which she did - and with one weapon, that was all she could do, as Kitana's other, open fan came around..._

_...and severed Mileena's head clean from her shoulders, her eyes still open in shock. The head had rolled over upon hitting the ground, and the blank eyes stared at Jade-_

...just as they were now. As if to say, "You too, killed me."

Jade thought back, about how Kitana had trusted her with disposing of the body, about how somehow, somewhere, the head had disappeared (dropped, most likely, out of the back of the carriage that Jade had conveniently found on a path nearby, that was indeed filled with fresh fruits and vegetables - Kitana had thought of everything), about how she had kept that a secret from her friend, not wanting -_foolishly, oh so foolishly- _to tell her that there could still be evidence remaining that could do them both great harm. Not wanting to tell her that she had failed even the simplest of tasks, had failed her friend. 

Jade knew that If Kitana could have, she would have shot her a very quizzical look. But she couldn't, not just now. Ziang was speaking again, and Jade caught the last of what he said.

"...and when the fan slices, it leaves different levels of incision inside the wound, due to the difference in height of the blades. These cannot appear on the body, as the lowest blade strikes first. But here on the head, as you can see, these, despite the degree of decay present, are quite visible. Your honor, I rest my case."

He placed the head on the evidence table, and sat back down.

Cries of "Guilty" echoed throughout the crowd. They died down at a clench of the judge's orb.

"Lady Kitana, what do you have to say for yourself?" asked the judge.

Kitana closed her eyes.

"I am here, before you, convicted of the crime of murdering my sister. I pleaded innocent, and of that, I am."

"But the evidence is-"

"The woman I killed was not my sister, for I have none."

"What do you mean?"

"Remove the mask upon her face, and you will see what I mean. She was born from a sample of my blood, the blood of the nomads, and of Shang Tsung's sorcery."

"What are you saying?!"

Kitana stood up, and dug her hole as deep as it could go.

"When Shao Kahn invaded my home world of Edenia, and brought it into his own...this...Outworld...he took me as his own daughter. Even though he erased my memories, and I myself thought that he was my father, he knew, deep inside, that I could never truly love him as such. Somewhere deep down in that black pit he calls his heart, he did want a child of his own. So, he had Shang Tsung create her. I learned of these things after discovering records of my own past. Mileena was in no way royalty, but a pretender to the throne, brought into existence by the Emperor's foolish whims, and forbidden magick."

Silence reigned supreme.

"If I am to be tried on this day, and sentenced to die..."

She finally spoke the words she had been waiting to say for centuries.

"I will bring down the entire house of Shao Kahn with me. I may be guilty of murder, but the Emperor is guilty of that, and much, much, more. He won the keys to Edenia through treachery, and I know he will do the same to Earth."

Cries of outrage abounded throughout the room. The rabble was on its feet, now, pointing, screaming, booing, and hissing.

"...You speak treason, and heresy!"

"See for herself. Remove her mask."

The judge, after a short pause, nodded towards one of the bailiffs, who moved towards the head.

"Wait." Ziang spoke. "I have here a decree from the Emperor regarding just this matter."

The judge held his hand up. "Bailiff, stop. Let him speak." The bailiff stopped.

Jade was in shock. The Emperor had thought of everything. This was a blasted show trial...

"It is my decree that while the head of my beloved daughter may be, though it pains me to allow, used as evidence in this case, it may only be done if my one condition is met; and that is that the shroud covering her face must never be moved from its spot there. She adored it so, and wore it proudly, as the warrior who carries his sword into battle does so with the highest regards to it. When she wears her mask, she hides the lip she bites when she is forced to take a life before others. She hides the smile she makes when she is happy. She lived as an assassin, and would die as one - in full garment. These were her spoken words to me, and I vowed to carry them out."

Ziang put down the scroll. "I am afraid, dear princess, that we cannot grant your request."

Kitana could say nothing. She simply sat back down. Nor could Jade, whose mouth was wide open in shock.

_The Emperor himself is trying Kitana for murdering Mileena...he senses Kitana's treachery...and....most probably mine, too..._

"Jury of six...need you time to deliberate?"

The jury, six figures in identical brown robes, conversed quietly for a bare moment.

"Your honor, there is no need for deliberation. We have seen and heard enough for one day, and can discuss further those facts at the next gathering.

We find Princess Kitana guilty of murder, treason, insurrection, and heresy."

The judge clenched down upon his orb again, and it glowed yellow.

"Princess Kitana, your crimes are great. However, I have not the authority to sentence royalty. Hence, your sentence will be decreed by the Emperor himself - as I was informed before this trial that it would be, were you found guilty. Take her away."

Jade held her hands over her nose and mouth, trying and failing to bite back the tears, as the two bailiffs led the unresisting Princess out of the room.

She knew what would happen next.

"Lady Jade?"

She spoke, but did not open her eyes, or look up. She dared not look at the judge, the jury, Ziang, or the faces about her who stared at her with barely disguised contempt.

"Yes?"

"When the monk's scrolls come into Prosecutor Ziang's possession, you will be called back here, for a trial of your own. Is that understood?"

"Y...y...yes..."

She bolted from her seat, and fled the room, crying.


	8. Chapter 7: Allegiance Eternal

**CHAPTER VII**

**Allegiance Eternal**

 The man walked down the pathway, and wondered silently just how many times he had done so before. Idly, he ran a fingertip along the stone walls, felt the cracks in them. They were old stones, cobbled long ago, millennia, before he was even born.

 The torches were new, however. Some things had to be changed every now and then, in this old palace, and they were one of them. In fact, not too long ago, he had passed a monk doing just that chore. He wondered whether the monk tired of his work. Had he that position of monotony, the task of lifting the flaming sticks from their stands, their embers dying, and tossing them into a cart behind him after they were snuffed out, to be replaced with new, strong torches, which were instantly lit, he would not have grown bored. He did so enjoy the time he had to himself. There was precious little of that, under the service of the Emperor Shao Kahn.

 He leaned on the wall to adjust his leggings. He loathed the uniform of Kahn's top humanoid men - it could become so tight and bothersome. At least it provided good protection in battle. The purple forearm and shin guards were hard as steel, and the matching loincloth, belt, and large hexagonal-shaped patches that adorned his overmantle would absorb a stray arrow or a blast of fire with the wearer unaffected. When it came down to it, he would choose protection over comfort every time, but that did not keep him from wishing that the garments were not so tight.

 The mask and faceplate he found absolutely loathsome, however. He didn't like having his head covered, and the latter was nothing more than metal hammered to shape perfectly over his nose and mouth, with twelve gashes which allowed for breathing. The gashes were made wide, to his specification. The general did not like to feel to constrained. An unwelcome side-effect was that if you looked at the mask from a distance, it almost resembled a ribcage with bones that didn't slope down, but rather up.

 As he ran his fingers through his long, shoulder length black hair, parted in the center, general Rain wondered what would crack first, the stone on which his hand now lay, or his mind.

 He also pondered what died more everyday, torches in the palace halls, or pieces of his soul.

 When one lives for thousands of years, one must learn to be patient. Rain did not know his true age, but he had reached 2,809 since he started counting. Judging by the average Edenian's aging speed, he would put perhaps 7,000 more years behind him. But he did not know for sure.

 He wondered just when the Emperor would see fit to tell him the things he did not know about himself. His parents, his past, how he had come to be where he had been found....

 Rain continued walking, and reached a flight of stairs. It was several floors down to his quarters, but he did not mind the time it took to get there. After making his weekly report to the Emperor on whatever missions he had undertaken (this week's had turned out to be peaceful, the investigation of a rockslide that had killed a village, which was judged to be merely a natural disaster, without a trace of foul play) he walked just this route, six floors down to the block of private quarters. It gave him time to think, which he enjoyed.

The long-haired man looked over the scrolls which he had been given by Kahn himself. Next week's assignment: The capture and elimination of a band of treacherous thieves who had been pillaging and robbing from the communities on the outskirts of the wastelands.

Rain sighed. Another mission of murder. He tired of them.

He wondered also, just how much blood he had spilt whilst under Kahn's service.

And then he all but smacked into the person walking the opposite direction, so absorbed was he in his thoughts.

"My excuses!" Rain said, ever polite. Then he noticed just to whom he was speaking.

He was about a half inch shorter than Rain was, but he appeared even shorter, since he walked hunched over half the time. His uniform was identical to Rain's in every aspect save for the shape of the faceplate (built so that the front resembled the jaws of some strange beast), and the fact that his uniform, which identified him as a ranking servant, was a dark green rather than purple. At the moment, his mask and hood were off, tucked into his belt, revealing a face featuring yellow eyes with black slits for pupils, a hairless scalp, the skin green and scaly all over, save for everything below eye level, where the green turned gradually to a white that colored the scales down his neck.

Assassin first class, and personal bodyguard to Shang Tsung, Reptile.

"It isssss no matter. In a palasssse with assss many occupantss asss thiss one, and with ssuch cramped quarterssss, ssuch thingsss are bound to occur."

 The lizardman spoke with a strange lengthening S impediment, characteristic of his species, the name of which Rain did not know. Many of Kahn's men found it irritating, but none would dare say so to Reptile's face. Rain saw it as an endearing trait of individuality.

"Regardless," the general spoke, "I should have been more cautious. Were you carrying something fragile, you might have dropped it, and had it shatter."

"But I am not, and I did not." The lizardman smiled slightly. "All that I carry isss my ssssupper. Care to try a ssssample?" The smile broadened. Reptile knew that his fellow soldiers found his eating habits disturbing and bizarre, so he would every now and then offer up tasty treats to them, just for their reaction. While he did not show it often, he had a taste for comedy.

 He carried in his right hand a covered wooden bowl full of various crawling insects and worms. He held the bowl out to Rain in supplication.

Rain's only reply was to close his eyes and chuckle. "Thank you, no."

"Sssssuit yourself." He opened the cover, and a large dragonfly took flight. In a heartbeat, the lizardman snaked out a long tongue, caught it three feet in the air, and brought it back into his mouth with a crunch.

 Rain leaned against the wall, and shook his head, looking on in bemusement, his lavender eyes taking in the sight of his friend. "You're disgusting, you know that?"

 The other shrugged. "Eye of the beholder, and all." He picked at one long, razor-sharp tooth with an equally dangerous looking finger talon. "Do you mind if I walk with you? I am on my way to my own quarterssss, after all."

"How did you know where I was going?"

If Reptile had eyebrows, one of them would have tilted upward.

"We, all of ussss, have lived in this palasssse for thoussssandssss of yearsss. Every eighth day, you head directly to your quarterssss after ressseiving your asssssignmentssss and missionssss from hissss majessssty. How could I not know where you were going? I know what almosssst everyone doessss in this blassssted plasssse."

"I could have taken an alternate route. I know plenty."

 "But you never do. You alwayssss take the same one. Ssssame turns, ssssame corridorsss, ssssame everything. You try to be efficient." He grinned again, the corners of his mouth practically touching his ears. "Assss a ressssult, you become predictable."

Rain folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "How do you know all this? I have very rarely seen you on my way there."

Reptile slurped up a large slug. "I **can** become invissssible, you know."

"You know, if you used that power for more practical purposes, you could be a very rich man."

"There are downssssidessssss. I could do without the sssight of sssseveral troopersssss ssssstumbling about naked at all hourssss of the morning, for one." He shuddered. "And bessssidessss, if I made any notisssseable amount of money, the Emperor would taxsss me for breathing. Come, walk with me. Let'sss not tarry."

 Minutes later, conversing still, they walked down another hallway littered with torches, as nondescript as the one they had met in. These hallways, however, were home to the quarters of Kahn's top officials and warriors. They stopped at a large wooden doorway. Rain reached for the handle, and pushed it open. He walked in. Reptile waited patiently outside, not wanting to trespass.

"Sssso tell me, old friend. What occupiess your thoughtsss ssso? You sssseemed rather preoccupied back there."

He noted the scrolls Rain was leafing through, and organizing.

"Isss that your forthcoming assssssignment? What isss it thisss time?"

 Rain exhaled heavily, and wrapped the scrolls in a leather sheath, which he placed on the large table, already stacked with writing, beside his bed. The room was otherwise devoid of much, with the exception of some neatly stacked weapons placed upon a shelf, some uniforms hung neatly in a closet, and a large, thick book that sat open on the windowsill. Rain's diary, Reptile knew. He had told him about it, once. It looked to be about the right thickness for one, and there was a pen and ink well just next to it. The ink on the pages was just drying, Reptile could tell, but he did not try to read it. If Rain wanted to divulge its contents, he would have done so already.

Rain closed his eyes. "Murder," he said simply. "Again."

"I am ssssorry."

"It is none of your concern. Do not trouble yourself."

"I know how much you dessspisse killing."

"So does he. So why does Kahn do it? I've shown him, proven to him my loyalty, time and time again. Does he take pleasure in my misery?"

"...your hard work will be rewarded ssssoon, I am sure," said Reptile. "Maybe he sssssimply feelsss that you are not ready for whatever truthsss he hasss in ssstore for you, yet."

 Rain closed his eyes, and sighed again. He wandered aimlessly over to his bed, and sat on it. He thought back, to his earliest memory, waking up in the middle of the desert, in the middle of nowhere...

...hundreds of dead bodies around him. Edenian and mutant alike.

 And being surrounded by 20 of Kahn's troopers on horseback, and brought back to this same palace.

 He was interrogated, almost tortured. He would have been, had he not pledged loyalty to the forces that held him, out of fear for his own life. And out of a hope for answers. Upon hearing this, the troops turned to each other, as if puzzled, and brought him before the Emperor.

 He told Kahn everything, when he and the Emperor actually met. How he remembered nothing. And Kahn had seemed so imposing, so frightening then, that Rain had thought that a wrong answer might mean his death.

But to his surprise, Kahn had said that he knew what had happened. He would not kill him.

The Emperor promised instead to one day reveal all that had occurred.

_ When the time is right_, he had said, staring into Rain's eyes. _Were I to tell you now, the consequences on your own mind might be disastrous. But one day, you will know._

 The troops who had interrogated him had long since disappeared. Rain suspected they were killed as men knowing the truth, or at least something close to that. That had made him decide not to pry anyone for information - he didn't want to inadvertently get someone killed. If the secret behind his past was that horrible...perhaps he could wait.

He had decided that almost 3,000 years ago.

He snapped himself back to the present, and answered Reptile's statement.

"I am. I have been ready for ages now. He dangles me on a thread like a puppet, and I tire of it."

Reptile regarded his friend for a minute longer from the doorway, silently.

"You and I are more ssssimilar than you know..."

Rain looked up. Could Reptile actually be on the verge of...divulging information about himself? Presumably, no one save for Kahn and Tsung knew much about the lizardman's past. He was very secretive, and while he could be social on rare occasions, he never took kindly to being asked personal questions.

"What do you mean?"

Reptile smiled. "It is passsst time I ssspilled my gutssss to sssomeone - metaphorically sssspeaking, of coursssse. Come, let usss talk on the way."

Rain got up, and walked over. "The way? To where, may I ask?"

The lizardman put an arm around his fellow warrior's shoulder, and led him back into the hallway.

"The rooftopssss. Ssssparring helpssss to vent frussstration, and that isss sssomething you and I have far too much of."

_I thought you'd never ask, _Rain thought with a grin. "It has been too long since last we had a go at it...hasn't it?"

Reptile's only response was to usher him onward.


	9. Chapter 8: Homesick

**CHAPTER VIII**

**Homesick**

 "It mussssssst have been at least 15, 000 years ago. I wassss not far out of my childhood...mother would tell me ssstoriesss...ssstoriesss of another plasse, another time, before I was born, of a beautiful realm, lush and green."

 They were heading up several floors, toward the roof, a preferred sparring ground for many of the Emperor's warriors. It was wide and spacious, and the gravelled floor made not only for good footing, but the dig of the sharp, tiny stones into a warrior's bare skin when he fell, kept one alert and on their toes. The many overhangs, pillars and stones were not only good cover, but useful obstacles as well.

 "Although I have never sssseen it for myssself, I can picture it with my mind'sssss eye. The thick, denssssse foresssstssss, the sssssoft, calm lakessss...but, just asss you cannot remember your own true name, I cannot recall the label given to my homeland. If mother ever told me, I do not remember."

 Rain nodded. He didn't have to tell Reptile that Rain was the name given to him by Kahn, after he had pledged his loyalty. He wondered whether he'd ever know just why the dark one had decided on the Humans' word for a type of weather.

 "At any rate, those are some of the few happy memories I have of my childhood."

"What are the others, if you do not mind my asking?"

 "Hmmm...well, I remember that I very much usssed to love watching a single moon rissse...but what isssss odd isssss that all of my memories are of living here, in Outworld. We have no single moon. We have two. I remember alsssso, a ssstrange rassse…one with dark, great wingsss….."

"Perhaps it was a vision? A dream?"

 Reptile remained silent for a moment, as they walked up a narrow stairway. "I do not think ssssso. It ssseemsss too real for that."

 "At any rate, I remember well the look on mother's fassse when sssshe told me about my birth. Six eggsssss, hatching all at onsssse...and five sssssiblingsss devoured by the one. She told me how proud she wassss to sssee that. Sssshe sssssaid she had witnessssed many sssspawnings in her lifetime, but never had she ssssseen one newborn devour all otherssss. Apparently, that isss a sign of a great warrior being born, and a rarity."

 He looked over at his friend's incredulous expression, and grinned. "Sssssurprisssed? Yesss, apparently, the firssst insssstinct of newborn hatchlingssss of my rasssse - whatever that issss - isss to eat. Ssssso they turn to the nearessst living creature. And do jussst that. Although I can not ssssay for sssure whether or not there are other casssesss where more only one hatchling ssssurvivesssss, I imagine that it issss a rarity."

 They reached the doors, and Rain pushed them open. The twin moons high in the sky shone their eerie light down upon the gravelled ground. About twenty meters or so away, two other warriors were sparring.

 They walked forward, and Rain asked another question, at the same time tying his long hair into a queue. Reptile, on the other hand, had tossed away the empty bowl, slipped on his faceplate, and was now fitting his hood (which had attaching to it a layer of peach-coloured material that covered his exposed skin - the perfect thing for disguise) over his head.

"Where is your mother now?"

Reptile closed his eyes. "I do not know."

Rain's head tilted quizzically. "She...disappeared?"

 "No...." He sighed. "Sssssome time during my adolessssscent years, on one fateful day, a man came into the village. Truly, I sssshould not sssssay 'came'. Rather, he barged in.  He had othersssss with him, onessss on horssssseback, but they did not enter. Inssssstead, he came in alone...and began, through sssssorssssery, to burn the village, and itsssss inhabitantsssss to the ground.

 "After I, with sssseveral otherssss, had helped the wounded to the outssskirtsss of the nearby foresssst, I went to confront the man, enraged at lossssing some of my closssssessst friendssss, and our home, and confident - overly ssssso - of my victory. By thissss time, I had esssstablished myssself assss the village'ssss ssssstrongessst fighter. It came naturally, asss my mother had predicted.

 "I fought him, in a battle that lassssted a full three hourssss. But he wassss too much. Finally I fell, when jussst asss I thought I had the drop on him from behind, he brought his hand around, and with a sssssssweep of sssssearing flame, caught me full in the fasssse. I could not fight afterwardssssss - I could barely even ssssseeeee.

 That wassss when he made hisss offer...the one that led me here, to the Emperor'ssss ssservisssse."

 He closed his eyes, and recounted to his friend, in the most minute detail possible, the words of the man who had defeated him, and his acceptance, as he lay, unable to move, exhausted, on the warm ground...

_ "Never before have I seen such a warrior as yourself. Your speed, your powers, your agility are far greater than most of the warriors in my Emperor's court. You should come with us. Your skill is great, but...I would make it even greater. I have need for a bodyguard...and yes...you would do nicely. Nicely indeed..._

_ "You...dessssstroyed my friendsssss...burned our housssssessss...you have ruined our lives. Kill me...for I will not do sssservisssse of any kind...to a butcher sssuch asssss yoursssself. Get...get it over with...finish me now._

_ "I think not." The man with flowing black robes and a dark goatee walked around him, taking him in from every angle, relishing his suffering. His eyes burned with an unholy fire. "You forget, little lizard, that I hold the cards. You must do as I say, or you will suffer."_

_ He leaned in closer, and Reptile could make out the details of his face through his red-smeared vision. The cruel smile. The wicked gleam in the eyes, unshadowed by the sweat-matted black hair that flowed over them. Felt a chill as he heard the other's words. "Your soul is as open to me as a book upon a table. You want only for those of your tribe who have escaped to live on...including your mother."_

_ "This can be made to pass. Come with me, and I will leave them be. They will not be harmed. I shall pursue them no further. However..."_

_ He grinned sadistically. "If you do not obey me, I will continue my hunt, and have her forced to watch as the other ten or twenty who escaped are flayed and skinned alive before her, you being last. And then, so shall she be."_

_ The tears flowed down Reptile's face, and his sadness blended with the horror of reality, and his shame at having been read so easily. He knew he had no choice._

_"That isn't what you want, now is it?"_

_"N...no...pleasssse....you...you would not....sssimply...cannot..."_

_No response._

_"You...would...wouldn't you...? Very...well...I...shall...join you....for my tribe'ss....sssake...whoever....you...are...."_

_"Some call me Shang Tsung. But from this day forth, Reptile, you shall call me master."_

_ He was grabbed by rough, calloused hands, and tossed unceremoniously onto the back of a horse. They galloped off, and the last thing that Reptile saw before he lost consciousness was the small shape of his mother, on her knees in the smoking ruins of the center of the village, crying loudly her son's name, in utter anguish and despair._

He opened his eyes, in the present.

 "I do not know why Shang Tsssssung hunted my tribe down. But I have my sssssusssspicions. I wonder if my own sssssssspessssiessss did not losssssse in Mortal Kombat to the Emperor'sss warriorsss, and that my tribe were the lasssst ssssurvivorsss...in any case, there isssss little I can do about it, without ssssolid proof. And though I have sssearched, I have found none. Asss everyone knowssss, all recordssss of Mortal Kombat are held by the monksssss, under Kahn'ssss care."

 He turned to his friend. "You sssee now, why I sssaid we are sssimilar. You long for the passst you never knew...and I long for the home that wasss taken from me."

 Rain could do nothing but shake his head. "By the gods...I am so sorry, my friend."

 Reptile shrugged. "It isss the passst. One day, I will reunite with my losssst onessss. The Emperor hassss forssseen it, and promissssed it. Until that day, I fight proudly in hissss name, loyal assss long assss he keepssss hiss word. 'After the realm of Earth hassss been taken', he promisssed me. 'When we are victoriousssss, I will ressssssurect the fallen membersssss of your rasssse.' That issss why I fight. That, above all elssse."

"You don't think he's lying to you?"

"No. Kahn knowsss what is bessst for his soldiersssss. There is some amount of honor in him…unlike Tssssung."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I don't have much of a choissssse, do I? At least he doesss not look down upon me, and inssssult me, like that filthy ssssorsssserer."

 Rain nodded, understanding. "We are indeed alike...we have much to fight for. But come, let us do what we came here for. Perhaps in friendly battle, we can find temporary peace." He slipped his faceplate on, underneath the hood.

Reptile's eyes shimmered. "Indeed. Thisssss will do usssss both much good."

 They faced each other, and bowed at the waist, their gaze never parting. The lizardman took a hunched over stance, his left arm extended before him, bent at the elbow, and his hand curled into a claw. So was his right, but that was tucked in closer to his chest. His knees were bent so that he was low to the ground.

 Rain, on the other hand, stood on the balls of his feet, knees bent but only slightly, left before right. Both of his palms were extended, outright, before his chest, moving in small, almost imperceptible circles.

 The two warriors in the distance had stopped fighting, and came in for a closer look. Low-rank soldiers, they took the opportunity to watch the two top brass warriors do battle, in hopes of learning something, or perhaps for some excitement. At any rate, the mutants sat a respectable distance away, and prepared for the spectacle.

The two began to circle each other. Rain spoke. "Rules as usual?"

 "Indeed," Reptile nodded slowly. "No blowssss to the throat or groin. No intentional breaksssss or fracturesss...and of coursse...no intentional killsss..." His pace quickened slightly, and he drew the circle smaller, ever so gradually moving inward. "...ussse of potentially deadly sssspecial techniquesss or magickssss, must be done..."

"...In safe measure." Rain finished. "Don't worry...I won't use my electrostatic blasts on you. I don't feel like having fried lizard tonight." He abruptly lifted his right leg, and Reptile took a small leap backward. But it was only a feint, and Rain brought his leg down again, now right before left.

"Funny...I'm quite in the mood for ssssome fressssh red meat, myssself...."

 With that, the green-skinned one leapt with a speed that caught Rain off guard. He grabbed the general by the wrists, tucked his knees into his chest, and swung over backwards in a double flip kick that hit Rain in the chin. He landed flawlessly and gracefully on his feet, and went back into his stance.

 But Rain wasn't out of it yet. He moved with the impact of the blow, and flipped onto his hands. He maintained that pose for a second. Reptile began to move in again, thinking for sure the general's back would make an easy mark. But Rain pushed forward with his hands, and this time, both of his feet flew forward and caught Reptile in the stomach. His eyes went wide with the impact, and he couldn't respond immediately when Rain came back from his forward flip, and stuck out a half-hearted kick that got him in the elbow. 

 That hurt, but he knew there would be more. So he accepted the blow - and correctly deflected the next one, a jab at his chest. Another came immediately after the first, and he caught Rain's fist, and used the momentum to flip him over his shoulder, onto the ground. Rain rolled and got up, defending Reptile's offensive consisting of a quick one-two mid-air hop kick. The second the lizard landed, he brought his arm around in a backhand that Reptile ducked under. He tried a quick snap kick, which was blocked, and had to hop backwards to avoid the fist coming in fast, aimed at his stomach. After a moment of hesitation, he dashed in and spun, bringing his leg around in a sweep kick meant to take Reptile off of his feet. Reptile, however, was all too ready for it, and met Rain's sweep with a well-timed downward thrust kick that not only slammed Rain's shin down into the ground, but hurt like hell. An involuntary gasp of pain escaped his lips.

 "You're lucky. I could have sssnapped that, if I'd put more forssse into it-"

 He didn't get a chance to finish. Rain lifted himself up slightly, and spun 360 degrees, catching the distracted Reptile in the back of one knee. He lost balance, and quickly joined Rain on the ground, the back of his skull impacting with the gravel.

 "You talk too much." He brought his still airborne leg around and down, headed for Reptile's chest. The lizardman was stunned, but not enough to let it connect. He caught the descending leg by the shin, allowing his bicep to take the brunt of the blow. He then wrapped his arm around it, and brought his elbow down with considerable force into Rain's thigh. The general then pulled back, rolled away, and got up, his right leg badly hurt in two places. His stance looked unsteady. Reptile, up as well, was shaken, and was seeing double. His neck felt unusually wet, and he surmised he might be bleeding.

_ Time to end this_, he thought.

 Rain moved in, preparing his attack. He brought his right elbow forward, and it was deflected. He then spun on his good leg, and came around in time to block Reptile's palm thrust. But he wasn't prepared for what happened next, as Reptile brought his head forward and a mist shot forth from the faceplate, high-pressure. It landed on his chest and arms.

 He staggered back, feeling the bite of Reptile's acid.  It burned, burned like mad. The exposed skin that had been hit felt like it was on fire, and his forearm guards were melting. Quickly, he ripped them off and tossed them away. He turned to his friend, amused malice in his eyes.

"I thought we were supposed to use our abilities at a safe level of strength?"

"I held back a great amount of assssidic content on that one. I am sssorry...would you like me to weaken the potency to its minimum? Or isss even that...too much for you?"

"Not at all. As long as we're passing out the proverbial sample...try this...."

 Reptile hadn't even seen the glow from the ball of energy as Rain charged it within his fist. It flew through the air, and expanded as it went. He tried to dodge, but could not, not in time. It caught him in the stomach, and he felt like he was being sucked into a black hole. He looked forward, and found he could not control his own movements. Suddenly, he flew through the air toward his waiting opponent whose clenched fist beckoned him forward. He couldn't move his arms or legs, couldn't attack-

 Rain's other fist, clenched at his side until the last moment, caught Reptile full in the face. With that, the lizardman dropped to the ground, groaning, able to move once again, hands over his faceplate. Blood seeped from between his fingers.

Rain smiled. "I could finish you off right now, if this were an actual fight...."

"Maybe you could...and then again...."

The air around Reptile shimmered, and he looked Rain in the eye before he disappeared from sight.

"No!"

Rain brought his fist down in a punch that hit nothing but ground. Reptile was already up, and completely invisible.

"How can you finisssh what you cannot ssssee?"

In the distance, the two other warriors looked, amazed, as General Rain was rocked back and forth by blows that came from thin air.

Finally, something connected hard, and Rain doubled over with a grunt of pain. He staggered back, clutching his stomach, and fell to his hands and knees.

_One chance..._

Rain closed his eyes, and shut everything off. His breath stopped. He felt no pain. He let his ears do the searching.

_...where is he...?_

_Crunch._

_Crunch._

_Crunch._

Just ahead, three feet. Rain smiled, and mentally thanked the gravel for being so noisy. Reptile was stepping lightly, just not light enough.

_Crunch._

"Now," he whispered.

He focused all of his energy into his palms for a second, as he lifted his left arm and legs off of the ground. There was a crushing thunderclap, and Rain flew straight upward into the air, skyrocketed by his own power.

"Nisssse..." The voice came from nowhere, but was slightly surprised.

Rain stopped ascending for a brief second, and began to fall. He knew that Reptile would be waiting for him to land, and would strike then. Not if he had his way.

"If you think that was something...behold..."

 Rain let loose the vast amount of energy stored in his left hand as he thrusted it downward. The energy took the form of a lightning bolt, and temporarily illuminated the night sky. Also, it illuminated the form of a living creature, who was so unfortunately in its path towards the ground it sought. Indeed, the skeleton of Reptile was visible for several brief seconds as the energy coursed through him.

"Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!"

 He turned visible again, and fell to the floor smoking. He was joined several seconds later by Rain, who hadn't the energy to land. A loud crunch was quite audible as the general hit.

 There was silence, and then the concerned voices of the two onlookers as they rushed over to the two fallen warriors, thinking them dead. But they were not, just exhausted.

"Well...how do you feel now...?" Reptile smiled as powerful arms slipped under his shoulders, lifting him up.

"Better...much…better....hahaha..." Rain's head lolled forwards as he was lifted over someone's shoulder.

They chuckled briefly, and both slipped into unconsciousness as they were rushed to the infirmary.


	10. Chapter 9: A Time To Mourn

**CHAPTER IX **

A Time To Mourn

"…and in your memory, master Li, do these candles burn, as did the flames of your spirit, which will soar to tranquility and peace in the next life. Farewell, my friend."

 Liu Kang rose from his prayer, and left the grave, his heart heavy. In the attack on the Shaolin Temple of the Order of Light by Kahn's soldiers, close to two hundred good priests and warriors had died. The temple itself had been defiled, its walls inside and out splashed with the blood of the slain, written over in obscene graffito in languages dead to Earth. When Kang had returned from his victory in the Mortal Kombat tournament, the few survivors had already been hard at work laying the dead to rest, and cleaning the temple. Kang had not stayed to assist them. He had more important matters on his mind at the time, namely the avenging of his fallen comrades. He had returned to Outworld barely a day after he had returned. Now that he was back from that second journey, he could mourn properly.

 Or as properly as he was able to. Much occupied his mind even now. He strolled into the temple proper, stopping briefly to set a table back up onto its legs.

 _What was the meaning of this?_ He asked himself, although a part of him already knew the answer. It was revenge, plain and simple. The dark lord of Outworld did not take defeat of any kind easily. 

_And I defeated him personally, _he thought. _Accepted each of his challenges, and overcame them. I even defeated his sorcerer a second time, and then humbled him before his public. What will be his retribution for that, and what will it cost us?_

 He strolled further into the halls of the temple, choosing his path randomly, and finally came upon the temple's eastern exit.

Liu Kang grimaced. This was the place where, he was told, the hordes of Outworld had piled many of the bodies of the fallen, one on top of the next, and doused them in buckets of their own blood and gasoline, before lighting them all aflame. With what was left, they had painted "Death to those who defy the Emperor" along the length of the wall, along with a hastily-drawn portrait of the helmet of Kahn.

 The survivors were particularly fast about cleaning that up, though much of the wall was still stained red.

Resigning himself, he walked over to the nearest bucket of water, grabbed a sponge, and began to work.

_Hideous. Why do the denizens of that place delight in such horrible carnage and cruelty?_

_Well, _he corrected himself. _Perhaps not all of them are so bad as that…_

His thoughts went back to the brief meeting he had with a beautiful young – relatively speaking, in Outworld terms – woman during the Emperor's tournament, just after he had been speaking with the Thunder God outside Kahn's palace…

_"Patience, Liu Kang," Raiden said. "Remember your actions at the previous tournament."_

_That was true, he had to admit. When he first saw how quickly and mercilessly their Outworld opponents killed some of the Earthrealm warriors in battle, he had flown into a blind rage, and had nearly lost one of his first fights. Raiden had cautioned him then, as he was doing now. But it was far more difficult to remain focused when those slain are not just simple strangers, but one's comrades._

_"I know, lord Raiden. But the images of my brothers' corpses disturbs my thoughts."_

_"I am aware that you are here of your own accord, and to avenge them. However, you will find that it is easiest to lose a battle when one has no control over their emotions. Bear that in mind."_

_He nodded, but said nothing._

_  
"We will speak of this later," the deity said. "For the moment, we have matters of grave importance to attend to.'_

_"Such as?"_

_"Conspiracy," he said, and smiled._

_Liu tilted his head slightly. The thunder god was a brave warrior and a wise teacher, offering advice and hope, where little of either could be found. But he also had a peculiar sense of humor at times, something Liu found difficult to comprehend in a god._

_"So…just who are we conspiring with?"_

_"The young lady who stands to your left."_

_Liu jumped. She – whoever she was – was good. She hadn't been there a moment ago, and Liu hadn't sensed her approach. She was just slightly shorter than he was, and wearing the slim garments of an assassin. And because of those, she was quite attractive too – although Liu had the notion that had she been wearing a hefty wool coat, she wouldn't have been any less so._

_"May I present to you princess Kitana, rightful heir to the throne of Edenia. Kitana, this is Liu Kang, the victor of the last Mortal Kombat tournament._

_"It is an honor to meet you, Liu Kang," she said after they had bowed to one another._

_"The honor is mine, princess." _

_Her eyes were especially attractive._

_"I must meet and convene with the others," said Raiden. "I imagine that you have much to speak of, so I must take my leave now. We will speak again, Kitana."_

_"Farewell, most revered God of Thunder."_

_"Yes, farewell for now. Oh, and Liu?"_

_Liu's eyes went wide with the familiarity, though he had to shield them as Raiden took on his ethereal form of lightning. "Yes?"_

_"Don't try anything. She's ten thousand years old, way out of your league."_

_And with that, there was a thunderclap, and he was gone._

_He heard a chuckle, and looked over to see the princess with a broad grin on her face – she had removed her mask, and now she was nothing short of beautiful._

_"I'll never understand him," he said, looking up at the night sky._

_"If all had a spirit such as his, there would be no war amongst men. But come, as he said, we have much to talk about."_

_A short time later, they walked down the path leading to the Armory of Kahn, for lack of any real destination. "It has struck me that you are the one who defeated prince Goro of the Shokan." she said._

_"Yes, but barely. He was incredibly powerful, and for some time during that battle I thought defeat was assured. I still do not know exactly how I managed a victory that the great Kung Lao could not."_

_She smiled grimly. "There is a great potential in you, Liu Kang. Raiden sees that." She was silent a moment. "Even so, I wish you had not killed him. He was not as warlike as many of his people."_

_Confusion etched its features across Liu's face. "Kill him? I didn't kill Goro."_

_"…But he has not been seen since you defeated him. Everyone on Outworld assumes his death."_

_"No," he said, and shook his head. "No, there were three others who saw him afterwards. Johnny Cage and Sonya Blade, two of my fellow Earthrealm warriors, along with a criminal named Kano, ran into him atop the large bridge on Tsung's island, or so they told me."_

_She was staring at him with remarkable intensity. "Go on."_

_"Well, they apparently fought against him – maybe Kano started it, or maybe Sonya wanted to arrest him." He smiled inwardly at the thought of the four-armed Shokan being read Miranda rights by Sonya. She would have tried to do that, too. "But as I'm sure you know, after I defeated Tsung, the island became unstable."_

_She nodded. "At the moment, it is off-limits to all but the highest of rank, and many parts of it lie in ruins."_

_"Right. So, the bridge collapsed, and Sonya tells me that she wound up in the Living Forest of Outworld with Kano, where the Emperor's forces apprehended them both. Johnny said that Raiden brought him to safety. After that, I suppose, is when Goro went missing."_

_He watched as she took all this in, nodding slowly. " Well, it relieves me to know that you did not kill him. Still, I hope he lives..."_

_From there, they had talked of many things, the truth of her past, the beauty that was Edenia, and her grotesque clone she had thought to be her sister. He told her about the massacre at his temple, and she winced as he described the details, and the nomad in charge of the killing. She had identified him as commander Baraka..._

"You look tired. Perhaps you should get some rest."

Liu blinked, and looked up to the face of the person standing before him. It was Kung Lao, one of his closest friends and one of the survivors of Kahn's attack. About the same height as Liu was, but with dark brown eyes, a heavy-set jaw, and shorter black hair. Not by much, though – it was getting longer, and he had announced his intentions to let it grow into a queue. Liu didn't know why; the main reason he kept it short was because of the razor-sharp hat he usually wore, and he didn't want to bother griping over the loss of some hair – that had happened once during training.

"What makes you think I'm tired?" said Liu?

"For starters, you have been holding that sponge in one spot for close to five minutes now. I think it's ready to squeeze."

"I was thinking." He went back to scrubbing the wall.

"Well, I'm thinking, too. Thinking that I should take over for you while you go get some much-needed sleep."

"I just got started."

"You're a workaholic, that's your problem. It's not enough to go about defeating sorcerers and overlords, you have to make sure the temple's sparkling clean, too."

Liu's eyes narrowed slightly. "You want it should remain dirty?"

Kung Lao's face abruptly turned serious. "No, you're right. I should be helping you, anyway." He picked up a sponge and they began to work together, in silence.

 More than Kitana and the massacre occupied Liu's thoughts, though, as he looked over at his friend. He could tell that the jokes on Kung Lao's part were a front for his true feelings; his teeth were gritted as he worked.

 Liu had sworn never to take a life unless absolutely necessary. Even when he had faced Kahn, he had remembered Raiden's words, and even spared his life. As far as he was concerned, he had avenged them by beating Kahn before his people. But Kung Lao was more of a believer in the old saying that blood would follow blood. When he had learned the name of the commander in charge of the assault on the temple, he had sworn to find Baraka and destroy him. He likely would have – most probably, he would have even challenged the Emperor himself, had Kintaro not defeated him in the midst of the tournament, and badly. It was Raiden who had prevented his death, challenging Kintaro to a later duel – if, and only if, he let the Shaolin monk live. Kintaro's eagerness to face a god in battle had been fortunate, and he had agreed. Liu knew Kung Lao well enough to realize that was humiliating for him, to be saved like that.

 Nevertheless, he had accepted it. But it didn't, Liu knew, ease his thirst for revenge. 

As if to illustrate his point, Kung Lao said, "This isn't over, you know."

"This?"

"You know as well as I do, we're not done with Outworld and Kahn. It won't be done until he's dead, or we all are."

"I know."

"Then how can you just sit there and look so peaceful? Aren't you angry? Liu, why did you let him live?"

 Liu put his sponge down, and went over to change the water. As he tipped it over into the nearby stream, he set his jaw as he watched the reddened liquid flow. He then hooked the pail onto a rope in the well by the stairs, and let it drop. There was a muffled splash. As he began to pull the bucket back up, he spoke.

"My friend…I've been thinking about it, too. I've thought about this, thought about everything Raiden has taught me, about Outworld, about the tournament…and I've realized one thing."

"Which is?"

"This is my destiny. I let him live to give him a chance to reform."

"He won't. You know that."

Liu walked back over to the wall beside his comrade, and resumed working.

"Yes. But I can't kill anyone outright like that. Besides, for him, defeat is far worse than death. Despite his boasts, his people's opinion of him has decreased. I'm certain they could see that it wasn't all a feint on his part. They know I hurt him, and badly. Perhaps that will spark a revolution of some type."

"Fair enough. I can't change your ways, only question them. All I know is that if it were me in your place then, his people would be in search of a new ruler." He was silent for a moment. "But you didn't answer me. Aren't you angry?"

"I was furious, of course."

"So why not-?"

"Because Raiden taught me that rage and blind emotion can only hinder judgement. That and, well, you just said it yourself. You can't change my ways – no more than I can change what I feel is right."

 He looked up at the darkening evening sky. "I just know that I was not meant to kill him. Not yet. All that has taken place has been fulfillment of destiny. Mine, yours, the Earth's. I can't be angry about the past for any longer than I need to. It will change nothing. All I can do, for now, is live with it."

Again, they worked in silence. The wall was almost clean.

"Liu, just promise me one thing."

"Which is?"

"If he does try anything again…and you get to him before I do…you don't give him another chance. Him, or Baraka."

"Very well, Kung. I'll agree with you there…you don't give second chances to slime like that…" he smiled slightly, bid Kung Lao goodnight, and left to get some much-needed sleep, as his friend had put it.

 Kung Lao watched his friend leave, and began to clean the further sections of the wall that were still slightly reddened. He wondered how Liu could have been so merciful. He tried to find that answer, and couldn't. How he could put it out of his mind at all, to concentrate on anything else was beyond him. There was so much he wanted to do now – he had major plans to reform the White Lotus Society, start from the ground up, for the group was but a shadow of what it once was. But as of right now, he couldn't concentrate on that.

_Maybe later, after this work is done, and the temple has been sanctified, I will look into that, get some type of meeting organized. Perhaps I can contact Kai…_

But what surprised him the most of all at the moment was that the other could even sleep at all, despite the fact that he had urged him to. All he knew was that Baraka and Kahn would both pay for their deeds if he had his way. Pay very dearly.

He stayed up all night, washing the wall.


	11. Chapter 10: The Dust of Creation

**CHAPTER X The Dust of Creation**

"My master summons me?"

"I do. Rise, Tsung."

Shang Tsung, high Arch-Mage of the Emperor's Guild of Sorcerers, did as he was told, a shiver of fear running down his spine as he did so. This could very well be the last time he was before the Emperor. Suddenly, his body was very dear to him. He much preferred this Earthen form to his natural one. He wondered if that was what he was being summoned for – would the Emperor relieve him of his body, and place him back into his native demon form? Would his newly found youth be revoked? Or would he just be executed on the spot? He was about to find out…

"What is your wish?"

"Indeed. That is the question, isn't it?"

 Tsung's nervousness raised a notch. This was a new and most unwelcome surprise. The Emperor was usually very abrupt in his dealings with his minions. That he had not already rebuked him for anything, or given him a command, was most unusual. This was the first time he had been summoned to the Emperor's throne room since the last tournament – presumably because the Emperor had more important matters to attend to, and had been recuperating his strength since his battle with Liu Kang.

 He cursed that name inwardly. Not since the "great" Kung Lao had defeated him so long ago had he hated someone so much. Which was saying something – Tsung hated almost everybody. He had long ago promised himself that once Outworld was his, he would have the upper echelons of the military assassinated and replaced. They were treacherous, all of them, and Kahn had allowed them to

form plans of their own for entirely too long. He knew of no less than fourteen different plots to assassinate the Emperor, and that was within the upper ranks alone. The only reasons he did not report them was that he put no stock in their ability to succeed – and, of course, the outside chance that one would, leaving him in place to usurp the throne from the victor's hand. One day, he would start fresh. After Kitana, Rain, and all the others were dead.

But all of that could only come to pass once Liu Kang was eliminated.

_Liu Kang…_

He forced himself to concentrate on the present, rather than forms of torture. All that would never come to pass if he died now.

"Sir ?"

"The question, Tsung, is 'why are you here?'"

"..you have summoned me."

"Evidently. And for a good purpose, of course." He got an impression of amusement and condescendence in that tone.  Impossible to tell; the Emperor's mask prevented anyone from seeing his expression. Even if it was off – a rarity – the glow of green flames from the skull torches behind the immense throne of bones casted shadows over more or less the entire frame of his master. All he could see were the barest outlines of the spiked knee-guards, the outline of the helmet, and of course, those horrible, glowing, red eyes.

"But I want to hear it from your wretched lips, Tsung. Why do you believe I brought you here?"

This was it, then. The Emperor loved to torment the doomed.

"…you have brought me here…to punish me."

"For what?"

"My failures."

"Such as they are, yes." There was no mistaking the condescending tone now. Tsung closed his eyes.

"Name them."

There was no point in asking which ones.

"I failed to win the great tournament of Mortal Kombat, failed to defeat Kung Lao. I required prince Goro's assistance.

"I failed to maintain my grasp on the tournament after nine wins, falling to Liu Kang. I am also indirectly responsible for prince Goro's apparent demise.

"I failed yet again to defeat him – even after my lord gave me newfound strength and youth, in a tournament held by my suggestion. I am therefore also indirectly responsible for the deaths of my Lord's warriors who fought in said tournament, general Kintaro and the lady Mileena foremost among those."

"Well spoken, worm," said the dark voice from above him. "Now tell me something else." The dark figure seemed to lean forward slightly. "Why should I not execute you now?"

Tsung was silent for a moment. 

"Well? Give me at least three reasons."

Breathing deeply, he made what might be the final bid for his life.

"Firstly…all that I have done, I have done in my Lord's name. He has my everlasting loyalty and servitude."

"I know this already...and your achievements are few and far between…"

Tsung swallowed.

"…but very well. Two more."

He thought briefly about arguing his case of losing to Kang, considering that the Emperor, too, had fallen before him, but dismissed it instantly. Kahn did not enjoy being reminded of his own failures. He opted instead for humility.

"It would be wiser to keep me imprisoned and tormented as a reminder of the price of failure to your other servants."

He hated to say this, but it was true. And he was certain that Kahn would at least agree with him on this.

A rumble of laughter almost too low to be heard echoed from above him. "True, my little sorcerer, very true. What is your final excuse?"

Tsung fought back an urge to collapse with relief. He wasn't free yet. "If I were to be executed now…there would be a great turmoil within my lord's Sorcerer's Guild, hindering their work greatly, especially the several special projects that have been in preparation for some time now. But which are soon to be completed."

"You have promised such things before." 

"We are closer than ever, my lord."

Silence reigned for a full minute in the chamber. Tsung merely stood with his head bowed, awaiting judgement.

"Raise your head."

Tsung obeyed, again looking his master in the eyes, as much as it unnerved him.

"I will allow you to live, Tsung. But for one reason only. When I look into your soul, I see fear there. Which is as it should be. Your achievements mean nothing to me, and you can be easily replaced. The only point you had was your second."

Tsung froze completely.

_He'll take my body away…he'll strip me of my powers…he'll keep me in a cage and…_

"However…based on the progress you and the Guild have made, you might be able to escape even that.  Show me your work."

"Y…yes, my Master."

The ancient wooden doors to the main laboratory opened slowly, and all those inside stopped whatever they were doing and looked up.

"Master Tsung! We have those reports you requested on-"

The young assistant stopped in the middle of his sentence, and his gaze turned to the shadowy figure of the Emperor behind him. He gasped.

"Your M-M-Majesty…" Instantly, he dropped to the floor, bowing so low that his forehead touched it. The twenty or so other sorcerers, attendants, and assistants all followed suit. When he saw that all of them were prostrated before him, Kahn spoke.

"Rise."

They did as he commanded. "Please, go on with your work. Do not be disturbed by my presence…I am evaluating your performance as well." He looked down at the assistant who had come forward. "Out with it, small one."

"Yes, sir." He composed himself as much as he was able to, given his circumstances, and gave his report. "Master Tsung, we have analyzed the cellular samples you acquired, and believe that we can now complete the experiment."

"Good. And the correlation?"

"We have managed to integrate all the cells perfectly. They're ready. All we need now is a drop of life, so to speak."

Tsung turned to his Emperor. "This is the ultimate warrior I spoke of, lord. This is a labor many months in the making."

"The amalgamation of great warriors?"

"The very same."

"Whose samples did you use?"

"Many, my lord. Some of them are your finest men. Two skin samples, those of my bodyguard Reptile, and general Rain's were donated upon request. We had the lady Jade collect samples from the Lin Kuei ninja Smoke, and from Noob Saibot, who, if you remember, refused to donate a sample."

"Indeed. How did you manage that?" 

"The last two?" Jade confronted Smoke when she first met him in the lair of our late Shokan prince, and shortly afterwards she began a battle with Saibot under the pretence of questioning his loyalty. Fortunately, she escaped alive from both encounters."

"So that was what that battle was truly about…that was a great risk." Kahn rumbled. "You should have contacted me. I would have ordered him to make a donation."

"I respectfully remind my lord that he offers us his services. He could have refused. We do not have any type of control over him, and I don't trust him. In fact, I-"

The Emperor silenced him with an upraised palm. "Later. Who else?"

Tsung nodded, knowing better than to press the point. "You will be most pleased, my lord. We have managed to acquire some of the essence of the spectre Scorpion from the remains of the late Sub-Zero, whose cells are also being used in this experiment."

"Were those remains not stolen?"

"Indeed, they were. But not before we found what we needed."

"You said essence. Not a direct sample?"

"Impossible to take a sample from a spectre, of course. But when Scorpion killed Sub-Zero, the flames he spewed from his skull…"Tsung felt uneasy, speaking about it.  "…they left the remains altered at a very basic level. In short, we used one sample, and acquired another for free. It was quite a surprise, and unexpected, but we have been able to work with it, after some difficulty."

"Very good, Tsung." He could almost see the smile behind the mask, and knew that his future now had some form of substance to it. "This could come of some use to me in a forthcoming campaign…"

"My Lord?"

Again, the dismissive wave. "Any others? What about the nomads?"

"Due to the…instability and unpredictability of their race, we felt it was safer to leave them out." 

Kahn nodded slowly. Tsung suspected that no one wanted any more nomads like a certain bladed maniac running around than was necessary. "We have used one more sample, my liege – that of the failed experiment."

"…I see. And how is that faring?" There was displeasure in the tone

"If my Lord will follow me, he shall witness for himself." Tsung began to walk further into the laboratory. Kahn motioned for two of his guards to remain where they were, and walked after him. Along the way, Tsung decided to explain his decision for using a sample from a failure. "We believed that the tissue of a being composed of a great amount of souls would assist in the merging of the samples we acquired. We were correct. In fact, it as only after we introduced this particular sample that the cells of the spectre began to cooperate with the others."

He did not mention that Noob Saibot's cells also had exhibited difficulty merging with the rest until they had introduced the 'experiment's' sample. If Kahn didn't want to hear about Tsung's concerns regarding Saibot, he wouldn't. He resolved to put the matter out of his mind – for the time being, at least. In the meantime, he would keep a distant eye on the shadowy spy.

"So tell me, Tsung…why these cells in particular?"

It was a question meant solely to irritate him. "These warriors have great potential, each and every last one of them." They are very alike in their basic structure – each individual is quick, strong, and has great powers. Ah. Here it is.

"This is Ermac, my lord. Or what is left of it."

They stopped before an immense transparent crystal structure, round and cylindrical in shape. It stretched from floor to ceiling – about eight feet high – and within the crystal, a strange type of green energy flowed. As they watched, it became smoky in appearance, and then solid, making the entire structure seem light green. It then took on the form of a whirlwind, and after that, a series of interlocked rings. It became a small, glowing orb, and went back to being smoky. It continued in its random pattern as Kahn spoke.

"Why did it fail?" 

"I could explain this for hours, outlining the technical details, but the short answer is that it needs more souls." Tsung remembered the last time they believed they had given this thing sentience – they had found it floating, more or less, out in the wastelands, in a form halfway between humanoid and mist, and had succeeded in bringing it back here. They had formed a solid body for it, and implanted the mass of dead souls – for that is what they deduced it was, after much deliberation and experimentation – into it. It was given a name, and instructions to spy on the Earthrealm warriors during the last Mortal Kombat tournament on Earth. It had performed that job well, but when it came back to report, it had stopped before speaking, clutched its chest, made strange otherworldly screams, and abruptly and violently exploded, killing three of the emperor's advisors.  Since that time, it had remained in this soul containment chamber, where it was studied and observed. 

"Indeed. If it had more, it would live?"  
  
"We think so, yes."

"How many more?"

Tsung considered. "We estimate perhaps another sixty or so."

Kahn nodded once, barely. Then, like a flash of lightning, his left hand shot out and grabbed Tsung by the neck, and lifted him a foot above the floor. The helpless sorcerer gasped, and clutched at the wrist of the arm that held him aloft. He began to choke. The sorcerers nearby watched in fear and awe.

"Ghhh…my Lord…glk…what…hkkk…akkk…"

"Know this," the Emperor rumbled. "You have failed me, Tsung. More than once. Many times. However, your work here pleases me. You have made more progress than I expected for a worm of your quality. However, I expect that is due more to the diligence of your fellow sorcerers than to any effort on your behalf."

"No…hhhh…please….ghkkkk…"

"Here is my judgement, Tsung. Your punishment for failure, and your reward for your work…

The Emperor raised his other fist, and it trembled. As it did so, Tsung's chest rocked violently, surging forth. He began to scream, but the Emperor closed his fist tighter around his neck, shutting it off.

"…the chance to see your creations live…"

A green mist began to pour from Tsung's eyes and mouth, towards the Emperor's quaking fist. Soon that was barely visible, swarming as it was with  many of the souls Shang Tsung had taken over the ages.

"…at the price of your suffering."

The last of the mist flew sharply towards Kahn's fist, and the Emperor relaxed his grip. Tsung gasped, and then fell to the floor as his lord dropped him. His breath came in gasps, and he could not move, merely watch as Kahn turned back toward the chamber. The souls inside were now somewhat visible, and briefly, faces could be seen screaming silently, as though they sensed the pain the ones around Kahn's hand felt.

"This I do command…"

He thrust his arm forward, and opened his fist at the same time.

**"Live!!"**

 The souls flew from Kahn's outstretched arm into the chamber. There was a blinding light, and an invisible wind knocked over some candle-holders, and set pages on books flipping and turning. All present covered their eyes, save Kahn. Tsung managed to close his eyes tightly.

 The light began to fade, and suddenly there was the sound of hundreds of tortured souls screaming, then the sound of something shattering. Tsung felt his face become sprinkled with broken crystal. The screaming began to die down, as did the light, becoming the screams of dozens…then tens…and seconds later, two…which quickly became the sound of a single, terrible, human scream.

 Tsung opened his eyes. Kneeling in the remains of the chamber was a man, nude, bald, hands clasped to his head, eyes shut tight as if fighting off some debilitating pain. Finally, his scream stopped, and he opened his eyes. His eyes were emerald green through and through – no white whatsoever. Slowly, he lowered his arms, and closed his mouth. He looked at his surroundings, then at himself. He ran his newfound hands over his arms, and chest, and face, as if trying to understand what he was.

After a moment Kahn spoke. "Can you understand me?"

The figure looked at Kahn, remained silent. He too, spoke, and when he did, it was an ordinary voice, nothing overly special. But there was a haunting quality to it.

"Yes…"

"Know you what you are, where you come from?"

"No."

"Know you who I am?"

"You are…" the figure looked deep into Kahn's eyes, and from there, to the half-dead sorcerer lying on the ground to his left. He looked around the room, and back at Kahn.

"…my master?"

Kahn nodded. "Yes. And your name is Ermac."

"Ermac…"The figure repeated it, and nodded in return. He rose to his feet. "I understand. What is it you require of me, my master?" 

"Nothing for now." Kahn raised his arm, and with his two fingers motioned. In a heartbeat, one of his guards was at his side. "Accompany him to the training grounds, and clothe him in the garment of a general fifth class. After that, bring him to the library. Whatever he does not know, have him instructed upon."

"Yes, my lord." The guard turned to Ermac. "Please, follow me."

Ermac nodded again, and stepped down from the chamber. He gazed at Tsung's fallen body once more, and followed the guard out.

Tsung struggled to get to his feet, and was vaguely surprised when Kahn helped him up, pulling him up by the hand.

"Congratulations, Tsung. I believe we have a success. Let us see if we cannot have another." He raised his left hand again, and Tsung almost screamed for mercy. But he saw that one soul was still twined around Kahn's index finger, like a tiny snake. He had kept this one. "Where is the amalgamation?"

"Follow me, my lord," Tsung said. It took a good deal of strength, and he wondered how he would make it down the hallway. He left his black skullcap on the floor where it had fallen – he hadn't the strength to bend and pick it up.

Fortunately, Scarlett, his pupil, had been present during the whole ordeal, and she deftly stepped over, and draped Tsung's arm over her shoulder, helping him to walk. He wanted to slap her and thank her at the same time. _She assists me, but also shows my weakness before the others._ He considered for a moment, then decided it was of no consequence. All paled before the might of Kahn, and they knew it.

They made their way down the hall, to the next chamber.


	12. Chapter 11: Chameleon

**CHAPTER XI   
  
Chameleon**

 Scarlett assisted her master, the high Arch-mage Shang Tsung, as he walked from one chamber to the next, the dark lord Shao Kahn behind them, inspecting the laboratory, the people in it, and their work. She had always feared the Emperor – any sane citizen of Outworld would – but now she respected him as well. Minutes ago, he had brought about the creation of an entirely new life form made exclusively from souls, a being they called Ermac.  It was intelligent too, fully capable of speech and thought. Kahn had accomplished in moments what it had taken years for Tsung and his sorcerers, herself included, to do with Mileena…

_ And, _she reminded herself, _Mileena was a clone, grown to maturity from youth. An artificial birth, but nowhere near as artificial as what just took place back there. Truly, Kahn's magick can work miracles._

 They arrived in the next room just then. _And it looks like he's going work another one for us. _Kahn had extracted a good amount of souls from the sorcerer in order to make his new warrior, but he had kept one, which at the moment wormed its way around the dark lord's finger. _It's true that we'll only need one this time. This is a regular life form – strictly speaking. _This creature they had created was at the moment not much to write home about, but if they were right, what they had created was a being of incredible potential power. Tsung had acquired tissue samples of some of Kahn's finest men, the new creation being one of them, and mixed it together with two samples of Earthrealm's Lin Kuei ninja. 

 _And they added a touch of dead spirit for flavor,_ Scarlett thought wryly. How they did it, they were not sure, but they had what was apparently some type of spectral matter left behind when the dead spirit Scorpion had executed the first Sub-Zero. They had not been able to acquire any of the second's, and Scarlett had addressed Tsung about it. He had dismissed it, insisting that they had the basic genes, and should have the necessary powers. Indeed, Tsung had learned much in the ways of science during his time on Earth. _It is a type of magick itself, _Tsung had told her, years ago_. There is much I have learned…and much that I could teach the 'scientists' there, had I any inclination to do so. Let them puzzle over, and die of, their diseases. I have all I need from them_. He'd spoken generally, of course. Many illnesses the Earth-dwellers considered fatal had been cured ages ago on Outworld, when a part of it that had not been absorbed into it yet was still known as Edenia.

_But that's not important now. This is_, she thought, looking over at the stone slab in the middle of the room.

What lay there was essentially a big heap of translucent gel that was in a vaguely humanoid shape. It had almost no distinctive features whatsoever, but if one looked closely at it, shadows of internal organs could be seen. Had Scarlett not been involved in its construction, she might have thought it to be a giant form of dessert-sweet formed in the shape of a man.

"This?" said Kahn, in a low voice. Clearly, he sounded upset. "This…filth…is to be my ultimate warrior?"

"It is not yet complete," said Tsung, starting to regain his composure. Nevertheless, he did not withdraw his arm from her grasp. He was still very weak. She held him steady. "As our assistant said, it is in need of a soul."

"Then I shall provide it with one." He pointed his finger at the form, and there was a faint sigh as the green trickle of spirit flowed through the air from his finger to the form, and disappeared into it. 

Nothing happened for a while, and the Emperor was about to rebuke Tsung for another failure when the thing on the slab began to stir. Its gelatinous skin rippled and shook, and finally held still-

And before the eyes of Kahn, Tsung, Scarlett, and the few sorcerers who had followed them into the otherwise inactive room, expecting another burst of life, the thing sat up slowly on the table, and turned its head toward them. 

The sorcerers behind them began to murmur amongst themselves, praising Kahn – and each other – for a job well done. But the activity had caught the attention of the new creature, and it sprung from the slab to a position on all fours on the ground, hunched over, its head just barely noticeable as looking from one being to the other sharply.

The sorcerers backed away slightly, and the remaining guard was suddenly at Kahn's side, answering the dark lord's beckon.

"Acquire for me a humanoid training uniform. I will deal with this alone."

The guard gave a quick salute before departing, and the creature watched him go. It turned its gaze to Tsung and Scarlett, then Kahn, apparently sharing none of the previous creation's interest in itself.

Kahn stepped forward, and it instantly responded by crouching even lower to the floor, like a tiger ready to pounce.

"Can you speak?"

It did not move.

"Do you understand me?"

The creature's body shook, and Scarlett got the distinct impression that it was laughing silently.

"I am-"

But Kahn was cut off as the creature leapt, with such speed and agility that she was unaware of what had happened until she saw it struggling in Kahn's grip, one hand locked around its throat. It flailed and thrashed, making no sound. Kahn tightened his grip, and the struggling slowed. When it had stopped, the Emperor let go, and it scurried backwards, a hand to its neck.

"As I was saying. I am your master. The Emperor Shao Kahn of Outworld. Swear your allegiance to me."

The creature did nothing for a moment. Then, remarkably, it raised its right fist forward, and bent it at the elbow, allowing the fingers to fold out as it did so, to come with a soft _thud_ on its chest.

A perfect imitation of the salute of Kahn's soldiers.

At this time, the guard returned, a fresh new outfit held aloft in readiness for the creature.

"Excellent. Make yourself known to me. What are your abilities?"

After a moment more, its skin shimmered, and began to change. In seconds, the onlookers gaped as its body changed form to match the outfit, loincloth and all. Finally, as the guard held the mask up at Kahn's insistence, so did its head. Just then, its body abruptly lost its gelatinous quality, and became solid. It looked down at itself then, apparently just as surprised by this turn of events. 

_Fascinating, _thought Scarlett. _It's as though it's mutating from a shell to an adult, like an insect. _

Then a thought struck her. _What if it's mutating from a newborn into a shell – albeit a moving shell, capable of thought and decision? If so, what will the adult be like?_ The thought disturbed her, so she shook her head to clear her mind. She focused back on the creature itself, in the present. It was as solid as any living creature she had seen, but there was still that shimmering quality about its skin, sometimes bordering on invisibility, as though it were fading in and out of existence.

Kahn had another experiment to perform. "Follow after me," he said. He raised his hand again, and in it, formed a pulsating ball of energy.

The creature did the same, copying everything down to Kahn's intimidating pose.

"Good," said Kahn, letting the ball disperse. "Now continue. What else can you do?"

It seemed to consider for a moment. It then transformed itself into a whirling mass of smoke, and disappeared. It reappeared later in its humanoid form, a meter or so away. It then raised both of its hands, palms facing toward itself.  
  
One hand crackled with electricity that changed quickly into a roaring flame. The other formed a green, liquid ball that froze solid, to fall with a crash onto the floor, dispersing into a dark black substance, which it then absorbed back into itself, through its foot.

The Emperor laughed audibly. "Excellent, most excellent. You are truly a fast learner, and a marvel to behold. Can you fight?"

As if to answer, the creature snapped out three quick kicks from one leg, and held its pose, leg extended above its head. Slowly he brought it back down.

Kahn applauded, and turned to Tsung. "All your past failures, Tsung, I will never forget…but I can now place them out of my mind, for a while. You have my blessings for the time being." He turned back to the entity, and pointed his finger at it.

"You, who change your appearance, and abilities, just as a chameleon, you shall be my personal bodyguard from this day forth. Come," he gestured. "Walk at my side." 

Chameleon did as he was told, falling into position next to the Emperor.

_Incredible, _thought Scarlett again. _Absolutely astounding. It hasn't lived for more than five minutes, and it already has a grasp on our language. Perhaps it is telepathic? Even so…its capacity to learn is incomparable to anything Outworld has ever seen..._

 Tsung gave her an ominous glance that showed he was thinking something very similar. She raised her eyebrows briefly, and they turned their attention back to the Emperor. 

 "Well, Tsung? Have you anything further to show me?" 

There was satisfaction in that tone, but there was also a hint of something else, too. It implied something was missing. "Yes, my Lord, I do." He removed his arm from around Scarlett's neck, apparently able to walk under his own power now, albeit slowly. He turned to her. "Scarlett, make ready a room for our new comrade. This is something that must be discussed in private." 

"Yes, Master Tsung."

"Scarlett? You are she who testified at my daughter's trial?"

Scarlett's eyes widened. _He's addressing me!_ She straightened her posture, and turned to look her lord in the eye, mustering as much courage as she could._ If he was following the trial, he knows about my offer to Kitana…_ Decades back, Scarlett had offered to teach Kitana some of the black arts of sorcery. She had refused. _That stuck-up, foolish child…so much potential, wasted…I hope that didn't upset him._

"Yes, my lord, I did."

I heard about your proposal to Kitana shortly after you made it, you realize."

""Undoubtedly, my lord."

"You know that is an offence to tutor anyone outside the Guild in the dark ways."

"…yes, I do, my lord."

"We may dispense with the formalities of royalty for the time being. Tell me, even knowing so, why did you do it?"

 Her mouth felt very dry all of a sudden. "I saw a great potential in her. I felt it would be a shame if someone of her prestige did not have the skills of sorcery behind her. Please, forgive me."

 Kahn regarded her for a moment. "You testified well at Kitana's trial, and I can see that you are a great asset to Tsung. He has informed me of the skills and promise of his pupil. That which benefits Tsung, benefits me. You have my pardon."

She could have squealed with glee. She settled for a mere broad grin, instead. "A thousand thanks, my king. But what of-"

"The Council?" he finished for her. "Pay it no mind. I will speak with them. There will be no hearing, nor shall you be placed on trial."

Scarlett bowed low. "I can never repay you for your services, lord."

Kahn merely nodded. That was her signal to leave. She summoned for the newborn creature to follow her, which it did after a moment's pause. She spared one brief glance back, as Kahn – not Tsung – led the way to the rearmost chambers of the laboratory.

"You have done well here, Shang," Kahn remarked. "This new warrior pleases me. Had I known how much progress you had truly made, I would perhaps have not been so hasty in my judgement earlier."

Tsung almost smiled, somewhat surprised by the familiarity of his name. "My lord flatters me."

"However, I have not yet seen that which I truly came for. The progress you have made in those things that I have requested of you specifically – they, and they alone will determine your final fate. Where are they?"

Tsung paled, and it would have been quite visible had it not been for the poor lighting the chambers offered. He opened a nearby door, which showed a flight of stairs leading down into darkness, barely lit by torches.

"Down this way, lord. We have kept them in different chambers, of course- we cannot run the risk of having the latent life force energies interfering with each others' revival processes, specifically those of your former queen."

The Emperor nodded, slightly. "Indeed. Her return is especially important – not only for me, but for all of Outworld. But allow me to behold my daughter first."

"At once, master." They arrived at the bottom of the spiral stairwell, and Tsung opened the door immediately to his left.

They stepped in, and beheld another figure lying upon a stone slab, being attended to and monitored by shadow priests, highest-level sorcerers clad in black robes and hoods. This figure was female, dressed in the simple uniform of Kahn's top assassins. A purple veil covered the lower half of her face. Kahn's daughter, and Princess Kitana's clone, Mileena, was motionless. Her head had been reattached to her body, and through sorcery, the mark of decapitation erased, as well as the degree of decay which the corpse had undergone. She looked to be merely asleep.

"All that is required, my lord, is to locate and resurrect her lost soul."

"You speak as if this were an easy task."

"I am aware that it is nowhere near such, sire. My apologies."

_That is an understatement,_ Tsung thought. To bestow life upon a newborn creation was a simple matter, at least for the Emperor, who had but to breathe the breath of life into it, as he had just done with Ermac, and the amalgamation. But to restore one of the dead to life was another matter entirely. It was almost never attempted. The soul had to be located by Tsung's elite sorcerers in the very depths of the Netherrealm itself, and with the personal assistance of the Emperor, drawn back from the realm of death, into the body. This was an immense strain, not only for Tsung and his sorcerers, who had to concentrate for days at a time to locate the one they sought, but especially for the Emperor, who would have to breach the barriers dividing the two realms, and pull the soul back. This would leave him drained for some time.

"It will be no simple feat," Kahn muttered, as though reading Tsung's thoughts, "But it is my will that she be returned to us. She is my true daughter."

Tsung pondered the possibility that one such as the Emperor might have the ability to feel affection for anyone or anything save power, and its own acquisition. _Kahn having a daughter he loves dearly? Rubbish. If he wants her back, it is for no other purpose than that she may be of some further use to him._

His thoughts were interrupted by the Emperor turning his gaze onto him. "Again, Tsung, your efforts please me. Inform me when her essence has been located. Now, show me my queen."

"At once, my lord."

They left the chamber, doors swinging silently closed behind them, and walked down the hall to one final room. The guards before the doors made way, and they entered. The room was sparse, save for the ever-present priests, and the small but unmistakeably feminine figure floating in the center of the room, surrounded by a faint mauve glow.

Kahn strode silently up to the lithe figure, and stretched one dark hand towards it. It passed through at the waist. This was merely the eyes and mysticism of the shadow priests at work, supervising the body across realms to make certain nothing had happened to it, their silent vigil lasting for centuries now.

"You have preserved her body well," said Kahn. "And her soul?"

Tsung sighed with relief, and did not attempt to hide it. "It has been a work many centuries in coming – but it pleases me to report that the…adjustments…are almost complete."

"Your meaning?" Kahn did not like to mince words.

"Her soul is now irrevocably bound to Outworld, and should she return to our plane of existence, she will remember you as her king, and no other."

_That had been a most confounding task, _Tsung thought. _First, reaching into the heavens to reclaim her soul – that required the efforts of hundreds of skilled shadow priests and sorcerers alike. Many lost their lives in the attempt,_ he recalled, the memory of the skin of his colleagues wrinkling and evaporating into nothingness almost making him shudder. _We stole our way into the realm of the gods, and paid for it in blood. But at least we acquired what we needed. And if that wasn't enough, we spent almost eight thousand years altering her soul, corrupting it to Shao Kahn's will. And since that proved successful, we have been trying to find a way to revive her on the Earthrealm, while still bound to Outworld. _

Another matter which displeased him, but a needed measure. Kahn had long had a contingency plan of sorts, should Mortal Kombat ever fail; he would use the ancient rites of a King and Queen as being inseparable beyond worlds to his advantage. It was a King's duty to cross boundaries and claim his Queen in such a situation. Long ago, after the Queen's…unfortunate…demise, her body had been transported to Earthrealm, and buried in a temple deep underground. Thanks to a simple incantation, it would not rot, but stay in perfect stasis, ageless, and would remain dormant until the time was right. Should she ever be resurrected on that realm, while her soul was still bound here, that would create a gateway through which Kahn could bring his hordes, to claim his Queen by right…and take whatever souls he so pleased.

"And the location?"

"That is the part as yet incomplete, lord. We cannot send her soul through any standard portal without unbalancing the furies, and I suspect that this is due to its time in the heavens. If we could create a gateway where we could, your plan would be complete. We have tried, and although we have made some small progress, all attempts have ultimately failed. For now, we can do nothing without incurring the wrath of the gods."

"You cannot remove the traces of…divine presence?"

"If we alter her soul any more than we have, we may destroy it. It is too much of a risk. It is better to attempt a different method of transport."

Kahn seemed pensive. At last he turned to stare Tsung in the eyes. "You believe you have a way to do this? Create a special portal?"

"…theoretically, yes. It is possible. But, as I stated, we have not the _ability_ to do this thing. The energy needed alone-"

Kahn stopped him with an upraised palm. "If you had the power…how long would it take?"

"At best…perhaps a matter of weeks, or merely days."

"I will grant you, Shang, the energies you require – as a means to an end, and also as a reward for your successes here. However, this will not be permanent. After you have accomplished this…assuming you can…these powers will fade. But not entirely. Indeed, after this ordeal is completed, you will be far more powerful than you were when you fell to Liu Kang at my tournament."

Tsung was about to say something grateful, but Kahn continued. He leaned in as he spoke, voice going lower than Tsung would have believed possible.

"But be warned, worm. If you fail me in this endeavor, if you fail to destroy Liu Kang when next you meet him…I will take away your mortal form, and deprive you of your ability to feed on souls, but not your hunger for them. You will live out existence in a cage, as you slowly starve over the aeons. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly, my lord," said Tsung, head bowed low.

_One day, 'Emperor', you will pay for these humiliations. Give me your power, it will add to my own on the day I cast you from your throne…_

 Kahn raised his palm, and extended his fingers toward Tsung. A thin red mist flowed out from them, and into Tsung's chest, nose, and mouth. He inhaled deeply, and was unable to repress a smile as he felt himself become all the more powerful. But all too soon, the transfer was over. Tsung opened his eyes and beheld the visage of his Emperor.

"It is done," he said. "Use this power well, Tsung, and wisely. Carry out my will, and Earthrealm will be at your feet, after mine. Fail me…"

He did not need to complete the sentence. He merely turned, and walked from the room, shadow priests moving to get out of his way as he did so.

_Fool, _thought Tsung as he left. _You begin your day in readiness to destroy me, and instead reward me. Truly, the passage of so many years must have dulled your mind. You will regret your actions eventually, so I swear._

But he was still not strong enough, and for now he had work to do. Sparing a glance over at the feminine mirage, he turned to his priests, and they set about attempting to find the means to resurrect the long dead Queen Sindel on the planet Earth, rather than on Outworld.


	13. Chapter 12: Chain Of Command

**CHAPTER XII**

**Chain Of Command**

The warriors stood in silence, awaiting their overlord and master, in the great throne room. Although one would not know by gazing at them outwardly, most of their hearts beat with equal parts anticipation and dread. For a meeting had been called, and a matter that had been in question for some time now would finally be attended to.

Just who would become the new head General of the armies of the lord Shao Kahn.

Anticipation, for how could anyone not leap at the chance to hold a hallowed position of such power, one that signified not only superior battle prowess, but a measure of the Emperor's own trust? And dread, for only a fool would expect to take such a position in rank and not face serious consequences for any mistakes he or she could make whilst in command. Many before had paid that price.

Sheeva's eyes swept the room, regarding each of her fellow 'comrades'. She sneered openly. As the highest-ranking Shokan, the four-armed human-dragon hybrids of the Edenian province of Kuatan, now part of Outworld, this position was hers for the taking. None of them had a chance, she was certain of it. Least of all, the individual to her left: Rain, the pathetic pacifist. He was a weakling, and Kahn knew it. Next to him was the Lady Jade, one of Kahn's top assassins. Strong-willed, perhaps, but at the moment, under scrutiny by the Council, for possibly aiding the princess Kitana in the murder of her sister, Mileena. No possibility of a promotion under such circumstances. Opposite her, standing at the tongue of the large dragon emblem carved into the floor, was Noob Saibot. The dark ninja was Kahn's freelance spy, having offered his own services. As such, he was not a full member of Kahn's army, and was ineligible to command any squadron of soldiers whatsoever. Standing to her right was Amvhir, officer first class. A cross-breed of sorts, his head was insect-like and repulsive, bulbous green eyes over twitching, drooling mandibles that clicked when he talked. Below that, he was humanoid, dressed in a simple black bodysuit with white trim around the shoulders, elbows, and chest. He was a good officer, but Kahn's mistrust of halfbreeds was well known. He wouldn't be promoted anytime soon, either.

Missing from the room was Baraka, the commander of the nomadic tribes, on a mission for Kahn elsewhere. It didn't matter._ Kahn placed him in charge of his fellow nomad troops for the sole reason that they respect him, _Sheeva mused._ Without him, they might leave us, and despite their lack of finesse they do their job well. No, Baraka is content where he is, and he is too unstable to be trusted with anything else._ She smiled wickedly, folding her lower two arms as she did so. _Besides that, he's stupid. His idea of a grand strategy would be to attack head-on. Backup plans? Attack also from the rear. He and his troops deserve each other. They make good fodder._

Also absent from the room was Shang Tsung. He was already head of the Sorcerer's Guild, and high Arch-mage. He had his own duties to attend to. _A pity,_ she thought sarcastically. _I do enjoy the way he discredits the rest of us before our Emperor. _That was a nasty habit Tsung had, second-guessing every opinion or suggestion uttered at meetings such as this. _He should be one to talk. He can't even defeat a simple mortal._

And if the high Arch-mage was not present, then neither would be his own personal bodyguard. She gritted her teeth together. _I despise that hideous serpent. Fawning and flattering the Emperor at every opportunity. He disgusts me._

_But not as much as him…_

She openly glared to the right for the third time in as many minutes to the last person present, standing some six feet away from her, just past Amvhir. The impulse to reach across and tear his throat out was overwhelming.

Well over eight feet tall, and more than that long, counting his tail. Four cloven hooves on well-muscled equestrian legs, Motaro was a general too, but of the lowest rank. This was only natural, based on his race. The Centaurs of Outworld were renowned for their amazing strength. However, so were the Shokans. Millennia ago, when life had first begun to form and evolve on Edenia, the strongest reigned. And so it was inevitable that the two most powerful beings should come to blows, become natural enemies. And they had. As time had passed on, and civilization developed, so did the enmity between the Centaurs and Shokans, from brutish battles over food and territory, into vicious wars over racial supremacy. But with the coming of the Emperor, a stalemate had been brought to an end, and the Shokan relished their newfound support, finding favor with their new ruler.

But this was not to say that the destruction of the Centaur race was at hand. Kahn also acknowledged the Centaurs' hunting potential, and kept a good deal of them around the palace as scouts and trackers. Though he favored the Shokan, he tolerated the Centaurs enough to allow them to live, commanding an end to ages of war and strife. Even so, the two races still fought bloody battles that ravaged the distant plains of Outworld for days on end.

Motaro was no mere scout, though. The first and only Centaur to ever become a commander in Kahn's armies, he had more than once demonstrated intelligence and cunning on the battlefield. Moreover, he had suggested plans for increased battlement defenses, and had presented plans for them. This pleased Kahn, who had kept a close eye on him, and to Sheeva's befuddlement, eventually promoted him to General sixth class.

She had been furious. But the Emperor's will was absolute, and she did not bother to try dissuading him. Instead, she did the best she could to tolerate his presence. Unfortunately, they had passed each other in the hallway on two separate occasions, and screaming arguments had ensued. The fear of debasing themselves to the level of savages before their master had kept them each in check up until now, but neither was certain of how long that could last.

Rain broke the silence. "Who do you suppose he has chosen?"

Sheeva was frustrated already. "Certainly not you, you weak willed pacifist. Be silent."

If Rain was upset, he said nothing. Jade spoke next.

"Are any of us worthy enough to fill the position of the late General Kintaro?"

"Clk-clk-hsk---one of us, Kahn finds suitable, clk--tkk-else he would not have summoned us---tk-tk-kkk."

Amvhir's dry voice sickened her. She was saved from having to comment on it by Jade's response.

"Indeed. But where is Shang Tsung? Surely, he should be here now."

"Clk-clk-hsk---failures many, clk-promotion for him impossible----hssk—kk-k-duties attend to--clk-clk."

"And Baraka is away," said Motaro. She narrowed her eyes at him. "That leaves only us."

"Your capacity for stating the obvious is impressive," she remarked.

"As is yours for aggressiveness. A pity there is little brain to match," he spat back, adding a fierce lowering head gesture that suggested intent to gore her with his horns.

"If any of the Shokan lack a mind, they make up for it in strength. The Centaurs have neither."

That did it for Motaro. He snorted, and might have done something rash, had he not been distracted by an audible chuckle from Rain's direction. He bared his teeth. "What do you find so amusing, _pacifist_?" He uttered the last word as an insult.

"You. The both of you. Pretending to have some quiet dignity one moment, foaming at the mouth the next. You're no more fit to command than I, Jade or any of us here."

Jade nodded. "He is right. Who will command our armies, that is for the Emperor to decide, in his wisdom."

Sheeva cracked her knuckles – all of them. "She, at the very least, has a point, and a capacity for bloodshed. You are sorely lacking in that latter department, Rain. That is why you shall not be the one."

"We shall see," was his only reply.

"Clk-clk-hsk-viewpoints different,many---clk-kk-clk—an opinion, Saibot? Silent, always—clk-hsk-clk."

All eyes turned to the black-clad ninja, who said nothing, simply standing with folded arms.

"You'll get no response from him," said Sheeva. "He can't be promoted, he's a freelance operator, remember? I do not blame him for his silence. This is of no concern to him."

She had hoped for some affirmative response from Saibot, but received nothing. She was not surprised. Saibot rarely spoke, only when addressing Kahn, and Sheeva had never heard his voice. The few who had, though, had commented on it, calling it a blood-chilling thing to hear. She expected that much. Fear was not an emotion Sheeva had ever experienced, but she could admit to herself that she felt a surge of uneasiness whenever Saibot was near. No one, not even Motaro himself, made her feel that – in his case, it was just rage. But looking into his pale, simmering blue-green eyes, Sheeva knew something instinctively. _He shouldn't be here, _she thought. _Not here, or anywhere…_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the noise of the immense iron doors of the chamber slowly opening. She craned her head around enough to see the black shape of the Emperor enter the room, bodyguards ever at his side. She bent low, one knee to the ground, head bowed, upper right arm to her chest. The other warriors followed suit, Motaro on both forelegs rather than the one. She wondered idly whether he was just sucking up, or whether he had to because of his multi-legged form. _Probably both,_ she decided.

Kahn strode through the circle, and up the steps leading to his throne. Once seated, his head nodded almost imperceptibly, the signal for his generals to rise.

"You are all aware of the reason for your presence."

It was not a question. He continued.

"Since Kintaro's unfortunate destruction at the hands of the thunder god, I have been in need of a new supreme general to take command of my armies. That one is among you."

Reverent silence. He continued.

"The one that I have chosen has excelled in all duties, performed that which I have demanded without quarrel or hesitation, without anything but thoroughness, and surest loyalty. That one has exceeded all my expectations, and I have watched as that one has risen through the ranks to become a respected member of my forces."

Sheeva's heart beat so ferociously, she feared the others might hear it. From personal protector to Queen Sindel ages ago, to a ruthless and thorough officer, and finally to a top-ranking second-class general. She was the closest among them to the rank to which she so aspired. Surely, she was speaking of her.

"Step forth, and claim your command…General Motaro."

Sheeva's face betrayed nothing of what she felt. It was perfectly neutral. In fact, for a period of five seconds she subconsciously refused to allow what had just been uttered to seep through. Finally, reality forced itself upon her, and her eyes twitched as Motaro arose from his position to walk over to Kahn's feet, and again kneeled, head bowed low.

"I hereby grant you the rank of supreme general and commander of all my armies. You have labored tirelessly to accomplish my will, and I am pleased. I expect you will make an excellent commander. Become a beacon unto your fellow Centaurs, and relish your newfound power…but take care not to fail me."

Her toes dug into the stone floor, and her fingers clenched involuntarily.

"My lord Kahn…I accept these duties with a proud heart. You shall not be disappointed. I will die before I fail you."

Every muscle in her body was tensed, and she had to force herself not to scream. She accomplished this by giving her teeth a ruminative focus.

"Let us hope neither occurs. There has been far too much of that, as of late. That is why I have chosen you. Now rise."

As Motaro did so, and turned to stand at his Emperor's side, Sheeva was biting the inside of her lip so hard, it bled. _What is the meaning of this? The Shokan have ever held this hallowed position! This is an insult to us!_

Kahn was still speaking, something about loyalty to their new Supreme General, but Sheeva heard none of it. She spared brief glances over at the others present. Saibot and Amvhir were unreadable, and Rain did not seem the least bit surprised, strangely enough. Jade however, looked confused. She had been among Kahn's elite for some time now, and no doubt was used to seeing a Shokan occupy that position. This was news to her, as well.

_But what did he mean…there has been too much failure? Was he referring to his soldiers as a group…or could he be referring to the Shokan race themselves?_ She knew that the disappearance and seeming demise of Goro, and the recent passing of Kintaro would not bode well for the Shokan in Kahn's eyes. The Emperor was of the type to punish the many for the deeds of the few. _Those who hold a coveted position in my ranks, _he had long ago said, _hold also my estimation for their kind._

_Could that be it? _she wondered. _Is this a slap to the face of the Shokan, for Kintaro and Goro's losses? _Her teeth ground together. _If so…what will happen if Motaro actually…performs well? Will Kahn's favor shift towards them?_

_Or has it already?_

She forced herself to concentrate on the present, doing her best to push up through the waves of hatred, jealousy and suspicion that threatened to tear away her self-control. She was before her Emperor, after all, and as much as she may not have approved of his decision, it was still absolute. She wouldn't bother to question him…and surely, he knew already how she might react. Perhaps keeping her obvious rage in check would boost his estimation of her abilities. She focused on Kahn's words.

"…now that this has been finally accomplished, you are all hereby dismissed. However, before you all return to your duties, there is one small, almost trivial matter to attend to. One of you here, who has also risen through my ranks, that I have deemed worthy to stand in my presence, and trusted with duties of crucial importance, is not content with my esteem, and status, and has seen fit to betray me."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Jade's direction, barely audible, but a Shokan's ears were keen, and Sheeva would have smiled had she not been in a murderous mood_. This should be good._

"Difficult to believe, I am aware. But we live in troubling times, and trust and loyalty are commodities, as easily available for purchase as a loaf of grainbread. How fortunate that we have here among us a highly efficient spy. Saibot?"

The dark one stepped forward, and bowed at the waist.

"Show us the one."

His footfalls absolutely silent on the floor, Saibot began to walk the perimeter of the semicircle composed of Rain, Jade, Amvhir and Sheeva. He was slow, taking his time to cross from one individual to the next. _Kahn probably had him do that intentionally, to see if anyone else sweats, _she thought._ I wonder who will take Jade's place?_

Slowly, Saibot moved towards Rain's position. Walked behind him, and kept going, past Jade, behind Amvhir, and finally behind her. He then began to make a second round.

She became aware of Motaro's eyes upon her from the side of Kahn's throne, his lips stretched in a bloodless gash of mirth that some would call a smile.

_You'd like that, wouldn't you?_ She mentally spat at him. _Take my rightful position, and then watch as my life is taken. But this time, the disappointment is yours. I have not betrayed him._ She actually allowed herself to smirk slightly.

Saibot continued past Rain a second time, walked behind Jade…and stopped.

Here it comes… 

But Saibot continued on, taking three slow steps over to Amvhir, stopping again behind him…and remaining there.

_That was a warning, _she realized. _Kahn is keeping an eye on Jade. But Amvhir?_

Kahn spoke again. "I am afraid Saibot personally witnessed you delivering copies of plans for the new battalion positions to a representative of the southern renegade movement, not three days ago."

Amvhir's mandibles were clicking into overdrive, and his bulbous eyes widened. He staggered back a step.

"No…clk-clk-hsssk…mistake, there is…hsssk..clllk-hk-hk-hk-tsss-loyal, I have-"

He was cut off. "No, Amvhir, the mistake is yours. However, with inconvenience comes opportunity. Motaro, here is my first command to you as general supreme of my armies…"

"…Kill him."

Sheeva watched, impressed despite herself as the spectacle took place. Amvhir reacted quickly, sprouting beetle-like wings from his back, and leaping through the air towards the room's exit in a feeble attempt at escape. Instantly her gaze turned back to Motaro, and her jaw dropped slightly as she witnessed him shimmer and disappear-

-only to reappear before the throne room's doors, fist headed on a collision course with Amvhir's chest.

_Teleportation, _she realized, swallowing the blood which had filled her mouth. _I did not believe any Centaur capable of it._

There was a _crunch_, and Amvhir went flying back across the room, to impact upon one of the room's pillars. But before he had hit the floor, Motaro had teleported again, and caught him by the collar. The second smash was worse than the first, and Sheeva was certain that she saw a mandible break off and fly across the room, into shadow. Motaro had not released him, however. Rather, he held him high for Kahn and the others to witness. Amvhir's head lolled back and forth on his shoulders. Sheeva would have bet he couldn't even see properly.

".pleashhhe…I..gll..hk-hs-emferur…I…"

Evidently he couldn't speak properly either, but the point was made moot. Motaro first wrapped that obscenely long steel tail of his around Amvhir's waist, then moved it up to his neck. It found a firm grip there, and tugged hard. The crack was wet and loud in the hollow chamber.

Motaro tossed the heap of broken flesh and bones that had once been Amvhir towards the warriors, and they scattered as it landed atop the symbol, belly touching the ground, but head facing up.

_I've underestimated him, _thought Sheeva. _He is good for something after all._

The silence was broken by Kahn, as Motaro returned to his side. "Well. I believe we understand now the reasons for my choice, do we not?"

Reverent silence again.

"Let that be a reminder. To any foolish enough to defy my will…"

His eyes swept over the room, and paused on her.

"or question it."

"Understood, my lord," was the chorus uttered by all present save Saibot, who bowed.

"He has already been replaced…which is a matter for another time. You will be summoned back here at a later date. Now, begone."

Sheeva departed ahead of the rest, the image of Amvhir's corpse already having disappeared from her mind, replaced by the possible messages implied within Kahn's glance, and by the echo of Motaro's low chuckle, barely audible.

She had done remarkably well, she thought. Having not only suppressed her rage in Kahn's throne room, but all the way up to the training grounds upon the castle's east tower roof. She was there, now, however…

Days later, Kahn's few accountants discussed it among themselves, and decided that it could have been worse. Although three walls were smashed to bits, twenty spears snapped in half, and a perfectly sturdy iron grate was bent almost double, that had been the extent of the property damage, and nothing overly valuable had been lost. The six or seven guards dismembered and thrown from the tower during Sheeva's rampage had been of low class, at any rate, and were easily replaced.


	14. Chapter 13: The Last Dragons

**CHAPTER XIII**

**The Last Dragons**

"Oi, mate. You sure about this?"

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Kano grunted, then craned his neck sharply to one side, to the accompaniment of a slight cracking noise. "You'd better. This is not something we want to be making any mistakes with. Too many risks involved."

"It can get through."

"I seen that film, with what's-'is-face, Jeff something, 'The Fly'. Poor bugger went n' got 'imself all fused with 'is own machinery. I could do without a propeller in me head, you get me?"

"Look, if passing through works like you say, there's no way in hell you'll wind up with anything where it shouldn't be. Besides, can you think of a better way to do this? They'll have roadblocks set up all the way to St. Paul. We're not getting anywhere farther than this on the road. Now let me work."

The two Black Dragon members had been driving non-stop for ten hours, in a Jeep they'd hotwired and stolen from a garage. It wasn't a very good Jeep – Kano had pointed that out on more than several occasions. It was missing one of its doors, and from the sound he was hearing, Kano was sure that there was something horribly amiss with the muffler. But nothing had happened, and so they counted their blessings as the Jeep had taken them on a long trail beginning in New York state, west through Pennsylvania, Ohio, and now they were in Indiana. Half a year ago, Kano had been practically chased out of Illinois by Sonya Blade - his fists clenched as he thought of her – and he had wound up a stowaway on a plane bound for Miami. After making contact with the few Black Dragon members that remained there, including a long-time associate of his, Jarek, he had hooked up with his current partner on the phone, and had agreed to meet him in North Virginia. Kano really hadn't liked being so close to D.C, but he had had no choice, as this guy he was now paired with had been in the process of completing a small job up there, and couldn't be interrupted. Also, he was essentially the only big-name Black Dragon member left, next to himself and Jarek, and the latter was enjoying some well-earned personal time off. _He certainly_ _did well enough for himself in that little extortion scheme of ours a couple of years back, _thought the crimelord_. I know I'd be able to count on Jarek in a pinch. But this guy…_

His name was Kabal. He'd only been with the Black Dragon a short time, maybe a year, but his reputation preceded him. Supposedly some kind of technology whiz, able to cook up anything you needed as quick as you pleased, with the right materials at hand. If that weren't enough, he was also quite the martial arts expert, and he could apparently wield a pair of hookswords like nobody's business. Kano had heard that he had once used them to slide down a steel cable into a sealed-off factory. _Nic_e, he'd thought.

He was pretty decent-looking too, Kano thought. Not especially attractive or anything, but he just had one of those faces you could trust, a real winning smile. Long black hair, too. If he'd been wearing a suit, and had his hair in a ponytail, he could have been a P.R. bloke, or something similar. But as it was, he was decked out in grey shoes below brown desert-wear pants and shirt, and a green-and-black vest which covered that. Strapped to his back were his hookswords, strange weapons that Kano imagined would have a nasty effect on someone's ribs if used the right way.

He had been useful so far, and this contraption he was building seemed impressive alright, but to be honest, the man's personality was getting on Kano's nerves. He was vain, and didn't like being given orders. Rather, he seemed used to dishing them out. He'd been very politely dancing around the fact that he needed silence to work, and was a hair's breadth from telling Kano to shut up. Kano was waiting for it. The second he did, the crimelord was planning on teaching him a thing or two about respect.

Kano spared another brief glance at the figure to his right, then went back to keeping an eye on the door. They were in the middle of an abandoned warehouse – _funny how often us 'crims wind up in those, _he thought wryly - and they were being tailed. While he kept watch, Kabal was doing a number on a long-range remote transmitter that should give them exactly what they needed; a fast mode of transport, ASAP. Kano didn't quite understand it all, but Kabal was the electronics expert, not him. Supposedly, they were going to hijack themselves a helicopter, and fly clear away to where Kano had reappeared on Earth, when he had jumped back through the portal from Outworld. That had been a close one, he remembered – Sonya and Jax had been right behind him, and it was only because he'd managed to kill another man and switch clothes with him that he'd gotten away. He'd shaved his head, and wrapped his cybernetic eye in bandages, masquerading as a recently released hospital patient. It had worked for a while, and he'd fled from Illinois with that Special Forces bitch on his tail.

Since then, after losing her, he'd switched clothes again, this time to some black and red duds he'd really liked, and had set to work an a scheme to rebuild the Black Dragon that wasn't going well. Along with Jarek, he had planned to recruit new blood. But at some point, a phone call must have been eavesdropped upon, because he'd found himself bolting from Miami with FBI squads on his ass. He'd again lost them on the way up to the rendezvous with Kabal, and everything had been going smoothly until about an hour ago, when a Special Forces van had rammed into them from behind a sign advertising beef jerky. They'd been pursued for ten minutes, exchanging fire, until finally Kano had become fed up and had brought out the grenade launcher. With the SF van a smoking pile of rubble, they abandoned the jeep, Kabal grabbing the necessary equipment, Kano taking the weapons – guns, grenades, and a rocket launcher - in a large carrying case, and had for the time being set up shop here.

But the area was being searched. Any minute now a helicopter would be showing up. That was what Kabal was counting on. He looked over his device, made a few satisfied noises, like a doctor checking over a patient. "She's ready to go."

"Right," said Kano. "So what's it do again?"

"Transmits a homing frequency to the copter, and brings the cockpit under my control."

"So yer telling me we'll lure it in, and then take it for ourselves? And then we fly it to the portal?"

"Assuming it's still there, yeah. But it'll be heavily guarded, so I hope you're ready for action.

Kano nudged a rocket launcher on the floor with the toe of his boot. "Always am."

"Remind me again why you want to head there? This…Outworld? From what you described, sounds like a pretty nasty place."

Kano snorted. "Nasty ain't th'half of it. Bloomin' dinos flying through th'sky, trees wi' faces on 'em, all manner of weird crap. But it's th' safest place for th' Black Dragon right now, I figure."

Kabal nodded. After that fiasco several years back where Kano had tried to get ahold of a gem called the Eye of Shiitan, or something similar, several of the Black Dragon who were broken out of confinement at a Special Forces facility wound up dead. Of them, Jarek had survived, but was in critical condition, and needed weeks to recover. Tremor, the bulky ninja, had walked away too, but disappeared shortly after. Kabal had heard rumors that the man was a Lin Kuei traitor who had defected to the Dragon, and that he had been firmly dealt with. It wasn't something he cared to ponder; past events and members he'd never met were of no interest to him. Their importance expanded to the current situation, and stopped there. But at any rate, that incident had sparked the beginning of a series of worldwide arrests. The Black Dragon's ranks were being thinned out, week by week. From the accountants to the street thugs, everyone with ties was being put away.

Kano continued with a mirthful smile, seemingly reading Kabal's thoughts. "We're an endangered species. Gotta hide out, make up a new base of operations elsewhere. What I figger is, Why not offworld? Special Forces wouldn't dare follow us in. Take 'em 2 years t'work out the legal crap. Maybe once I'm there, I can make some connections, find out how t'make those portals. Get members in n' out…"

It wasn't the sturdiest plan Kabal had ever heard, but it beat staying on Earth and being hunted down by every single law enforcement agency this side of the Pacific. "Can you please save that for later? For now, let's just concentrate on getting there."

Kano chuckled. "Kabal, before we do that, jus' lemme get one thing straight…"

He whipped the knife out from his boot so quickly that it was up underneath Kabal's throat before he even had time to blink. Kano got in flush and close to his subordinate's face, pressing him back against a wall. His breath smelled like beer and meat.

"Don't talk down t' me. I mean never. I'm th' leader of th' Black Dragon, not you. Got that?"

"I wasn't-"

"Ya were. And another thing; I heard you muttering when I hit that van with th' grenade. Ya think I'm a psycho? Yer call. But you'd better start growing some balls, or else yer gonna find yerself lyin' in a great big pool o' yer own red." He put the knife away, and stepped back.

"You didn't have to use a grenade launcher."

"Was a sure way to get them off our tail, no? You'd prefer perhaps I ask 'em real nice-like?"

"Just because we're criminals doesn't mean we have to be murderers."

"Yeah, well when ya dance wi' devils, you'd better be ready t' tango. Now let's do this."

Kabal stooped back down, and hit a few switches. He then bent, and picked up the small panel he'd been tinkering with, tucking it under his arm. "Let's go."

Kano grabbed the weapons, strapping the rocket launcher to his back, and carrying an Uzi in each hand. They made their way up to the roof in silence, up a small, dirty flight of stairs. After Kano introduced his boot to the door that was rusted shut, they hid behind two of the roof's chimneys. They were about twenty feet apart.

Kano yelled across. "Now what?"

"We wait."

Sure enough, after about five minutes, a local police helicopter came into view, the words 'Indianapolis P.D.' emblazoned on its side, making its way over toward the rooftop. Kabal grinned, and put an ear to his receiver.

"Ten-twenty-six, receiving beacon, unknown origin. Moving to investigate, over."

"Roger, unit three. Proceed with caution."

Kabal's grin widened. Bending, he pressed two buttons. The first knocked out the helicopter's communications. The second made the controls his. He guided it closer in, and had it land on the roof. He and Kano were inside the copter, and all over the two officers in seconds. Kabal saw that the first found a nice place on the floor to sleep, and looked up to see Kano bringing his blade to bear on the second beaten man's throat.

"Don't! We'll need him!"

Kano growled, but put the knife away.

"Please…I got a family…"

Kabal produced a pistol in exchange, and put it to the bleeding officer's temple. "Shut up. Here's what's happening. You didn't see anything. Equipment malfunction, but you're not sure. You're heading back to base, ETA twenty minutes. Going to look around the area a bit. Got me?"

The officer nodded, terrified for his life.

"Then let's go." With that, Kabal put three slugs into the panel he'd constructed, its usefulness ended. Communications came back instantly.

"Unit three, what happened? We lost you for a minute."

The officer tried to block out the pain, and the cold press of the metal against his head. "Some kind of equipment problem. Going to have the guys look over it when I get back. Give me twenty; I want to look around some more. That beacon's got me wondering."

"Twenty minutes, roger."

"Unit three out."

Kano chuckled. "Good, good. Let's get this sonuvabitch in th'air."

Kabal gave the man directions, and they took off. When they'd reached the city limits, the officer spoke up.

"Where…are we going?"

Kano smiled. "Glad you asked. We're going to Illinois. You're gettin' out."

With that, Kano grabbed the officer by the collar, opened the door, and kicked him through. The man fell, screaming all the way down.

"What the hell did you do that for?"

"Oi", said Kano with his best winsome grin, "That was his stop. Couldn't take him with us, now could we?"

"You could have at least given him a parachute."

Kano considered for a moment, and nodded. He reached over to the wall, plucked one of the three available chutes off, and tossed it out. When he closed the door, he paused a second before falling into bouts of laughter. Kabal, who had taken over at the helm, stared at him, horrified. "You are a psycho."

"And you're a flipping genius." Kano took the other seat. "I was wrong. I can't kill ya - yer way too useful. Maybe a bit chicken, but yer a bloody whiz. So what happens when we get to th' portal? It'll be under heavy guard. For that matter, you sure we can get there in this crate?"

Kabal sighed. "Well, we've got enough fuel to make the trip…we just have to hope they wait a while before shooting at us." He fitted the transceiver over his ear. "I'll try to stall them."

Two hours later, they arrived at their destination, taking the long way around to avoid communications from police stations, and to their horror found that the authorities had constructed a series of large stone walls around the portal, which was for some reason, apparently still open. Kano hadn't believed it – it was the very real possibility that he didn't want to admit to himself, that it would have closed. Honestly, he didn't understand why it was still active.

_Doesn't matter, _he thought. _It works, and we're getting through._ He looked over at Kabal. _Would have been pissed if I'd told him those things close. Poor bugger, I've reeeally got to be more honest with him from now on._

Kabal noticed that Kano was smiling. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I have a plan."

"What's that?"

"Take us in."

Short pause. "You sure?"

"Ya heard me. Take us in, say 40 meters away, ten stories up."

Kabal shrugged. "You're the boss. Hope you're ready for this."

"You just worry about keepin' 'em confuddled on th' radio. I'll worry about the guns."

The helicopter began to come down, and instantly, Kabal was bombarded with questions, them being in an Indianapolis helicopter and all, their registration number, what the hell they were doing out here, and so forth. As he lied his way through the conversations, Kano was busying himself with something in the back. Finding what he'd brought along, he made a grunt of satisfaction.

Kabal glanced off to his right just in time to see Kano lean out the open window with the rocket launcher. His eyes widened.

Kano pressed the trigger, and seconds later, panic and chaos reigned on the streets below. The wall Kano had opened fire on tumbled, collapsing to the ground with a mighty crash. Shots began coming at them from all directions. Ducking back into the cockpit, Kano grinned again, seeing the swirling vortex of blue and black that was the portal into the Outworld.

"FLOOR IT! NOW!"

Kabal obliged, locking the stick into place with a hooksword, and flipping backwards to duck behind the seat. Kano did the same. The echo of machinegun fire was deafening in the small, cramped space,

The engine was on fire now, and the copter could not help but tumble madly toward the portal. It trailed a tail of red flame behind it as it flew through.

Instantly, Kabal and Kano experienced a searing agony, as though they were being ripped apart and placed back together. It was excruciating, and Kabal lost consciousness for a second. Upon regaining it, he looked up to find that he was upside down, and about to die.

The copter was now scraping across an unfamiliar, rocky red ground, and tumbling over and over, bouncing like a flaming basketball. The propellers snapped off, followed quickly by the tail, landing treads, and one of the doors.

He felt someone sling an arm around his waist, there was pain, and then his vision got all funny, like he was lying on his back, and then he saw the ground again, followed quickly by the sky. He realized that this was what happens when someone rolls along the ground. And then he realized that that was exactly what he was doing.

When he'd stopped tumbling, he was greeted by the welcome sight and sound of the helicopter becoming a large, pretty fireball. That was good, that meant he wasn't in it.

Several minutes later, he managed to rise to his feet. Turning his head, he saw Kano sitting on the ground, breathing hard. The crimelord looked up at him, and chuckled. "Ya owe me one, mate. S'weird, going through…black ya out if ye're not prepared for it. S'what happened to ya. Hadda toss you out the whirly. Helluva ride, eh?"

"You could…say that…ow." He brushed some red dust from his arm. "So...we're in Outworld, now?"

"Yep."

He looked around. It looked like something out of Dante's Inferno. Orange skies, red dust, and what looked like an immense castle in the distance. He looked back at where they'd come through. The platform and steps leading up into the portal were a ruined mess, rubble strewn about, and Kabal saw several dead figures in purple robes sprawled on the floor. He wondered how many lives they'd just taken.

"So what now?"

"Well, I figure we find a village, lay low. Should get out of here ASAP. If I know the boss, he'll be havin' this ruckus checked out."

"Boss?"

Kano got up, grinned, and gave Kabal a friendly smack on the shoulder. "Yeah, boss. C'mon, I'll tell ya all 'bout it later. For now, let's see what we can salvage from this wreck. Best do it fast though."

Kabal shook his head no, but resigned himself, and followed Kano over to the smoking remains of the heli.


	15. Chapter 14: Automation

** CHAPTER XIV **

Automation 

 The room was small, devoid of much detail. There was the trunk of personal possessions, and the katana under the bed. Also present was a small wardrobe which housed his various outfits for training, missions, and camouflage, but that was about it. Most Lin Kuei didn't need much, and they wanted for little. But one thing they all required was rest, and right now, one of them was having difficulty finding it.

 Sub-Zero lay rigid on his bed, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. Try as he might, he had gone through all the relaxation techniques he knew of, and still could not find rest.

 Although he was of course, troubled by the recent events in Outworld, he had found a new source of perturbation.

 Upon returning from their journey, he and Smoke had been surprised to find strange things taking place at the headquarters of the Lin Kuei. They had witnessed members of the clan transporting foreign and dangerous-looking machines around the halls.

_ With a considerable haste, _Smoke had pointed out. Their fellow Lin Kuei had not wasted a moment in speaking with them. Not unusual given most members' preferences of seclusion, but there were usually snippets of conversation to be had in the halls and training rooms dispersed throughout the building.

 In the time since they had returned, Sub-Zero had spoken to exactly three people; the first being Smoke, with whom he had sparred on a daily basis, the second being a relatively young recruit who had been almost as clueless as he to the matters of the machinery, and the newly imposed silence.

"What is the purpose of this equipment?" he had asked.

"I do not know. We are merely ordered to bring it to a storeroom in the back. There are hired technicians working there."

"How long have these been coming in?"

"Perhaps a week now."

"From?"

"Again, I cannot say. But I do know they arrive by helicopter."

"Why is it so…quiet, so suddenly?"

"It is the Grandmaster's decree that we are to remain as swift as possible, and waste not a moment in unnecessary speech until we are told otherwise. We must devote all our energies to our tasks, such as they are appointed."

 He had bowed to him, and left. As he did, Sub-Zero had tried to piece it together. It seemed likely to him that they had been acquired through black market trade routes. From the general look of the equipment, he could tell that it was highly advanced, cutting-edge technology, perhaps military in origin. He had never seen anything of the like before.

 The third person with whom he had spoken was a guard posted outside the Grandmaster's personal chambers. He had requested an audience with the head clansman, and had been denied.

"The Grandmaster is presently occupied," the guard had said. "He is in the midst of negotiations for future contracts. I will relay your request."

 So that was that. He had received no response, until the same guard had come to his chamber several hours ago, and informed him that there would be a gathering, taking place tomorrow morning in the grand hall.

 Highly unusual, that. This was a far cry from the typical routine he and the rest had been accustomed to; be given a mission, carry it out, and upon return, wait to be assigned another. That a gathering had been called implied one of two things; either a large group mission – extremely rare – or that a matter of critical importance to the clan as a whole was to be discussed. He bet on the latter.

_Undoubtedly, something to do with this machinery, _he thought. _Perhaps the clan is truly changing with the times…we are moving closer to the new millennium, after all…_

 He was jolted out of his thoughts by a voice coming from directly above him.

"Heard the news?"

 Sub-Zero had to crack a grin. His friend's taste for inane humor was insatiable.  He looked up at the light fog that covered the ceiling. He hadn't even noticed him enter.

"Yes, just now. So it appears all this will be explained."

"I should hope so."

"How long have you been in here?"

"About ten minutes. Why?"

"You should really learn to knock."

"Oh…a jest, coming from you? That is a rarity. Am I to presume your mood has improved?"

The grin faded from his face. "Yes and no. I'm trying not to think about the spectre, but it is difficult. What preoccupies me now are the changes being made here."

"What do you mean?"

 "You've seen them. These machines being moved in, day by day. I worry…are we forgetting our ways? Forsaking the old customs in exchange for power?"

"As much as I dislike it, these things are up to the grandmaster to decide, Sub-Zero. Not us. Perhaps he is a questionable individual, but he did not come to lead us by being a fool. One could assume these devices are for the clan's benefit."

"But at what cost? Nothing is for free. There is always a price to pay."

"Sub-Zero, there is a saying I enjoy that pertains to this particular situation."

"That being?"

"Stop your sissy bitching." There was a muffled chuckle from above him.__

Another smile. "You spend too much time in America."

"One learns interesting things there."

"Get out of here. You should be sleeping too."

"'Nice work, if one can find it,' hm? I will see you tomorrow."

"Until then."

And then the smoke that was his friend was gone, and he was alone again.

He surprised himself by drifting off to sleep almost immediately, content that in the morning, answers would come.

It was the last rest he would enjoy for some time.

 Dawn came, and with it, the singing of birds, and the rustle of the wind in the trees. He awoke, and looked out the sole window of his room. The skies were grey, and clouds hung low overhead.

 He walked over to his wardrobe, and having no need for the full uniform, chose a simple training garb for himself; black arm-straps, black leggings with dark blue overlay and stitched-in shin pads, and a simple set of dark blue chest-pads connected at the solar plexus by another black strap. He fastened on a light grey belt, and headed for the audience hall.

 The room was immense. Oval-shaped, with the familiar Lin Kuei emblem carved into the center of the cobbled stone floor, an inverted triangle with a ring piercing each corner. Twelve gargantuan stone pillars lined the walls, and at the back, set into the wall, was an upraised dais. There were no seats. The two hundred or so Lin Kuei who entered took pre-assigned positions at the floor, and knelt into the usual sitting position.

 Sub-Zero noticed for the first time the heavy curtains that stretched from the ceiling to the floor of the dais, concealing the rear half. This was new. Something was to be revealed. Apparently, the grandmaster had a taste for the dramatic.

 It was approximately six-thirty in the morning. As the Grandmaster himself strode into the room, through the path in the center that had been left for him, and up onto the dais, accompanied by two aides, the conference began in earnest. He turned to face them, and bowed, his long flowing robes adorned with a thin red overmantle, which stretched to the floor. His face was completely concealed by a black hood, and a red mouthpiece. However, this did not muffle his voice in the slightest. After the legions had bowed back, he spoke in loud, authoritative tone.

"You, who compose the Lin Kuei, I welcome you. Doubtless, some of you have been curious as to the goings-on recently. I shall waste no words in providing you with answers.

 "The quiet that I imposed was to prevent the spreading of rumor. I am certain that many of you have your own thoughts and beliefs as to what is happening. As disciplined as I am aware you are, such unusual events would have surely led to gossip amongst our ranks, which in turn would have led to unease. You may now consider that silence at an end. For now, I shall provide you with the answer to the other questions that are surely burning within your minds.

 "It is a new era. As our world moves closer toward the new millennium, so do our sciences evolve. We have seen advances in the technologies of medicine, warfare, and information. The times have changed. But the Lin Kuei, for centuries, have not.

 "We can no longer afford to remain attached to the means and measures of old. In these past few decades, the requests for our services have become fewer and farther between. It is true that we have ever operated in secret, allowing the rumor and myth of our existence to reach the ears of those who would have our skills at their behest. But as stated, we are quickly becoming forgotten. If this trend continues, within years, we will have become obsolete. Who will hire an assassin, when the work can be performed with an attack from a homemade explosive?

 "That is why we too, have now chosen to evolve. To move with the flow of time, we must make ourselves known again, as an entity of undeniable strength. Of power.

 "Several years ago, the Russian government began a classified project within one of their scientific research branches. The intent of the research and experimentation was to improve their soldiers on a physical level, using a primitive set of mechanics. It failed, and the funding was cut. However, plans and diagrams for the project's innermost workings were leaked, and have since wound up in our hands. We have spent a great deal of capital upon further research, and ultimately, development of these plans, and I am pleased to announce that the process has been finalized and completed.

"Where the rest of the world has evolved their sciences…we have evolved our warriors.

"I give to you, the first of the new Lin Kuei."

 The Grandmaster's aides rose from their positions near the foot of the dais, walked up, and parted the curtains at the center. There was a muffled gasp from the crowd, as the being there was displayed for all to see.

 Standing at the center of the platform, before a bizarre upright bed connected by wires to various computer banks, was a figure clothed in red armor over a black bodysuit. The armor covered the entire chest, shoulders, and was placed in strategic areas over the biceps and forearms. A complicated-looking metal belt was strapped over a red loincloth that seemed to be made of tempered steel.  Hexagonal metal joints replaced the knees. The boots were solid metal, with red touching up the feet. The hands, although sheathed in the bodysuit, were covered in odd places over the knuckles and wrists.

 It was bipedal, but it was not human. That much could be ascertained by the simple act of beholding its head.

 It was not a helmet, but a mask that was attached to the cranium, which featured black wires coming out from the back, similar to dreadlocks. The forehead was white, with a narrowing black gash that sunk into the skull, leading down to the eyebrow ridge. Everything below that was concealed by a red faceplate, gashed with slits, covering the lower half of the face.

The eyes were completely covered, replaced by rectangular black pools of darkness outlined in a red which sloped up past where the eyebrows would be.

 "This is Unit LK-9T9," said the Grandmaster, with a discernable amount of pride. "Codenamed Sektor."

 Everything fell into place, and Sub-Zero could not believe what he saw and heard.

"It was a dangerous procedure, but he volunteered. His loyalty to our cause will forever be remembered. He has become something far beyond human, beyond mere assassin. He feels no pain. He knows no emotion. And he is equipped with over sixty different types of weaponry.

"Show them."

 Sektor stepped forward. Sub-Zero silently marvelled at the sheer mechanical horror behind it, how this…bizarre entity before him had been a human days before. He recalled the last time he had seen Sektor, in human form…he had passed him in a hall. They had exchanged no words. Sub-Zero had not particularly cared for him. Sektor was thought by many to be arrogant and haughty, and he was inclined to agree. But it was indisputable that he was also a fine warrior, and fiercely devoted to his clan. This…just seemed like a mockery of what he had once been.

_ Even his arrogance was better than this…mechanical apathy, _he thought. _If he cannot feel emotion…then how can he be considered alive? More importantly, how did they do this to him?_

 His attention was called back to the spectacle. Sektor raised his right arm, and a blast of flame burst from it, flying over the heads of the onlookers. With his left arm, he released a blast of electricity. He withdrew his arms, and thrust his chest forward. Another murmur escaped from the crowd as his chest plate parted in two, revealing an array of missiles. These swivelled about to be replaced by what appeared to be a grappling hook, next to a pistol and a small, unidentifiable device that looked to be nothing more than a handle of a sword. These weapons were swivelled aside as well, to show a series of nasty-looking orbs, which Sub-Zero correctly surmised were bombs. The chest plate closed, and Sektor stood mute, awaiting his next command.

 The Grandmaster stepped forward. "Impressive, is he not? He has much more at his disposal – but more information on his arsenal will be forthcoming. For now, allow me to demonstrate to you the transformation as it progresses."

 He nodded to his assistants, who moved over to the vertical, standing table surrounded by the computer banks. They wheeled it around, and with the touch of several controls, the table slid down to the floor, but at an angle, so all could see the second subject who lay there.

"As you can see, this is a work in progress. But in moments, after completion, you will behold unit LK-4D4, better known to us as Cyrax."

 It was a grisly sight, and it pained Sub-Zero to see it. Cyrax had worked with Sub-Zero on a number of missions, and although they were hardly friends, they had shared a respect for each others' abilities. Cyrax was a skilled warrior – but now he could not be said to be more than so much meat on a table.

 African-American, powerfully built, with a slender face and kind eyes, he was at the moment unconscious, and sporting nothing more than black leggings. He was shirtless, for his ribcage was split open, and the same type of weapons pack that had been inside of Sektor's chest had been surgically attached to Cyrax's organs, through a process Sub-Zero did not want to understand.

 The only difference was in the color of the pack's casing, which was yellow rather than red. Upon close scrutinization, Sub-Zero could just barely see the slow expansion and contraction of his lungs behind the pack. He was breathing, but very faintly. A nearby tank pumped the needed oxygen into a mask that covered his face. It could not be seen clearly from the angle, but Sub-Zero could tell that Cyrax's head had been operated on, as well.

"Now, then. Witness for yourselves how the perfect Lin Kuei is created."

 The Grandmaster gave a nod, and the two aides moved over to the computer terminals. One of them grabbed hold of a panel, which seemed to look like a large tanning lamp, and manoeuvred it into place over Cyrax's body. He began to adjust controls, and after a full five minutes of pressing buttons, flicking switches, and adjusting dials, one nodded to the other, who threw a final, large switch.

 Instantly, Cyrax was bombarded with an eerie, pulsating red light. A low hum reverberated around the chamber.

 And Sub-Zero watched with mixed revulsion and fascination as Cyrax's organs changed, metamorphosing before his eyes from flesh and blood into steel and black fluid, bone into piping, veins into wires.

 After a minute or so, the two aides powered down the machinery, and wheeled a cart over towards the body. Laid out upon the cart were yellow replicas of Sektor's helmet, boots and armor, as well as a black bodystocking, and various weapons to be fitted inside the pack. Once those were in, the gash was sealed shut. Sub-Zero did not know what the skin was now composed of, but it healed almost instantaneously, bonding to the weapons pack.

 The bodystocking was fitted on, as were the armor pads over the arms and shoulders. Holes were cut so that the chest panel could show through, as well as the metal joints at the knees and knuckles. The boots were placed over the feet. And finally, the oxygen mask was removed, and the battle mask was slid into position over the face, attaching to the head, which was surgically altered and fitted with a metal casing.

"Arise," said the Grandmaster, simply.

 And Cyrax did, amazingly sitting upright from the table and undoing the straps that held him there, despite the incredible procedure he had just gone through.

"What is your name?"

 The voice that emerged from the being was hollow and mechanical, sending chills down Sub-Zero's spine.

"I am designate LK-4D4."

"What is your function?"

"I am programmed to carry out the commands of my superiors, the headmasters of the Lin Kuei."

"Do you remember anything?"

"This unit activated as of .005 hours. No pertinent records of interest. Details include basic movement of 2 feet, designate interrogation, function int-"

The Grandmaster raised a hand. "That will be enough. Tell me…how do you feel?"

A short pause. "Does not compute."

 The Grandmaster turned back to his audience. "As you can see, they possess no emotion. They are self-sustaining. And they harbor no desires, other than to serve.

"I am sure that now you have even more questions. I can imagine what some of those are…and I will state that we will not reveal the exact nature of the automation formula. That is a closely-guarded secret."

 He walked around Cyrax, giving him a look-over, speaking as he went. "I imagine that you are also wondering the obvious…how many of you will be made over in their image?" he laughed softly. "Not many, I am afraid. The procedure is still experimental. We have no knowledge as to whether or not there may be defects. Time will tell. For now, we expect to produce two more."

_This is wrong, _the ice warrior thought. _Completely and totally wrong. He speaks of them as though they were products._

 The Grandmaster stopped his examinations, and looked over the audience of Lin Kuei. Disappointment could be heard in his voice as he spoke anew.

"Another reason for their construction is certain failures as of late. In the past year, we have lost five of our valued members, on missions that should have required little effort. With these cyborgs, we will drastically reduce, if not eliminate altogether, our margin of error."

_We are not a clan…just tools to him, and the rest of the masters…_

 "In effect, we have come to believe that the Lin Kuei are beginning to show signs of weakness as a whole. This will not be tolerated.

 "As a matter of fact, as I look at you now, I can see fear in many eyes. A fear which should not be. I speak truth when I state that you have nothing to concern yourselves with. Those of you who are too weak will not undergo this process. In fact, we have selected two of-"

"Enough!"

 All eyes turned toward the voice. It came from Sub-Zero, who was standing on his feet, fists clenched at his sides. Hatred burned in his eyes as he stared at the Grandmaster.

"I have seen enough!"

 "Sub-Zero! What is the meaning of this outburst!? Do you dare to question the decisions made by the headmasters?"

"Yes, I do." He shook his head, incredulous. "This is nothing short of abomination! To invite technology into our world, our business, I can comprehend. It could very well assist us, make our tasks easier to complete. But this…this is madness!"

"Your words are treason!"

"You have extinguished the souls of two noble warriors, and transformed their bodies into mindless puppets!"

"Puppets, indeed! You cannot deny their prowess!"

"Strong though they are, they have no life of their own. They will never again smell, nor taste…nor feel! This process of yours is no more than slavery, cleverly branded as a new dawn for the Lin Kuei!"

"You are blind, and a fool. This is the new way."

"Were my brother alive to see this madness, he would have left the clan. As I do now."

 Inwardly, Sub-Zero felt a shiver of fear. He would be executed for this. But he knew that it was what he had to do. He reached to his right chest-pad, which had the emblem of the Lin Kuei fastened on to it.

 So that they would remain untraceable in the event of their death, the Lin Kuei bore no markings of their clan with them on missions. But the training uniforms, which never saw the exterior of the headquarters, did.

 He grasped it, and ripped it from the fabric, allowing it to drop to his feet. There was muttering from the crowd, and a stifled gasp.

The grandmaster was silent for a moment. Then he spoke, voice low and ominous.

"Your brother…was a failure. A shame and embarrassment to us all…as are you."

"Perhaps so," said a voice. "But one thing he was not, was a dishonorable, cowardly lunatic. And you, 'Grandmaster', fit that description well."

 All eyes turned again. Smoke had arisen from his spot across the way, closer to the exit.

"A curse on you, and this pathetic excuse for a clan. I too, will take my leave of you." He moved to stand beside Sub-Zero, arms folded.

Sub-Zero smiled. At least he was not alone.

The Grandmaster's chest could be seen rising and falling. He was epileptic with rage, and did not attempt to conceal it.

"Are there any others?!" he screamed, searching back and forth across the audience. "Who? Who else dares defy our will?! Who else is lacking in loyalty and mind?!"

None stood.

 This seemed to calm the Grandmaster, slightly. "Good," he said. His head turned in the direction of the two traitors again. "I should have expected this. It is a shame, actually. The mighty are often rebellious in nature. But…you both must know full well that there is no leaving the Lin Kuei. Not while you breathe."

"We know it," said Sub-Zero. "You will have to kill us. Or at the very least…"

 He eased into a defensive posture. Ice began to form around his hands. Smoke began to emit the thick smog he was so well known for, as he cocked his fists at his sides.

"…try to kill us."

 At this, the few Lin Kuei who were still seated rose quickly, and stepped back from the two, into the circle that had began to form around them. Weapons were made ready, swords drawn from their sheathes.

Much to everyone's surprise, the Grandmaster chuckled.

 "Kill you? Whoever said anything about killing you?" He chuckled again. "No, my foolish little ingrates, no. As I was going to say before you interrupted me, we intend to create two more cybernetic assassins. Now that we know the process works, we can take two of our finest warriors and convert them, with no fear of losing their abilities. And the two have been chosen. You two."

Sub-Zero's teeth were gritted. "As you said…Not while I breathe," he snarled

"The choice was never yours to make."

The Grandmaster turned his back to them, and walked over to the dais. He stopped.

"Hold them."

And with that simple command, pandemonium erupted.

 While Smoke dissipated into an ethereal form, dodging the incoming attacks, Sub-Zero made a sweeping gesture with his arms, instantly freezing four incoming attackers into pillars of ice. Turning, he fended off an incoming punch with his forearm, and planted a kick to his attacker's face. He leapt off to one side, smashing an elbow into another's sternum. He spun on his heel, and with a roundhouse kick, caught two more assailants in the face. He sensed an incoming attack, and ducked. A sword flashed overhead, and there was a wet noise and a gurgle over to his left. Someone's throat had just been slashed open.

 Four of his attackers decided to take him en masse, moving to flank him from all sides. He smiled, and tried an experiment of his own. Mustering his power, he _thought _cold, envisioned what he wanted, and leapt up – leaving a perfect clone of himself standing on the ground, in the exact spot he'd been standing in. The second his attackers hit the statue they froze completely, the ice quickly spreading across their bodies like an infection.

 Smoke, on the other hand, was having a much easier time of things. His ability to transform any part of his body into clouds of smoke was invaluable when facing numerous opponents. Half of the blows aimed in his direction connected with each other, and more than a few times, he heard bones snap. He extended his left palm, and a fine mist flew into the face of an attacker. The man choked and gagged, falling backwards and bumping into another man, sending them both to the ground. He leapt over and planted kicks to the bases of their skulls, making sure they remained down. He glanced over to his right, and saw the sword coming down.

It cut a clean swath directly through his body, from forehead to knee, before coming out again.

 Smoke did not move from the position he was in. The swordsman's eyes widened, and he was about to yell in triumph, when he noticed that there was no blood. Rather, the sword had left a misty trail where it had passed. Smoke waggled a finger, then punched the man in the face before he had the opportunity to even look confused. He crumpled. Smoke chuckled, then transformed into his ethereal form, and proceeded to smother two more men.

 Try as they might, the Lin Kuei soldiers seemingly could not take down two of their own finest. Although they were trained in supernatural magicks and techniques, most were still green in their practice, and Smoke and Sub-Zero had seen fit to dispose of the stronger ones first, those who could focus their Fa Jing and could use special skills and elemental powers and the like.

All was going well until the moment when Sub-Zero had required two punches to take a man down. He turned, and dodged back, but not in enough time to avoid the dagger that was headed toward his face.

 It carved a path of agony from his cheekbone to his forehead, passing a bare millimeter from his right eye. He fell to the ground, hand covering the wound.

 Smoke turned when he heard his ally's involuntary shout of pain. His eyes widened in shock, and he dropped the two men whose heads he'd bashed together, flying over to his friend's side in his smoke form, and reconstructing himself there. He helped his ally up as the few remaining fighters formed a perimeter around them.

"Not good…"

"Any…ow…suggestions?"

"I blind them, you trip them, we escape. We cannot fight with you in this condition. Can you see?

"If it were not for the blood then I could, yes."

"Get ready…"

The twenty or so remaining men began closing in.

"Now!"

 Smoke used every available bit of strength he had to expand his choking mist in all directions, expanding outwards from his body. As he did so, Sub-Zero let loose a stream of ice which covered the ground around them. As the first of their attackers dove at them through the mists, they slipped and fell into each other. The two of them used this time to burst through the circle, and through the doors leading back into the corridors of the headquarters. In seconds, they were through the front doors, running with all their might into what had become a vicious thunderstorm.

Back in the audience chamber, the smoke had cleared, and the Grandmaster was screaming again, the open doors taunting him.

"Incompetents! Fools!"

 Calming himself down yet again, he turned to the two mechanical assassins who had stood motionless throughout the entire ordeal. Without orders, they would remain so.

"This is my command. Units LK-9T9, LK-4D4, you are to seek out the two traitors, Sub-Zero and Smoke. You will stop at nothing. You will bring them back here, before me. Understood?"

Sektor spoke for the first time, his voice an octave deeper than Cyrax's.

"Confirmed. Preferred target status?"

"Alive if possible…dead if necessary."

 The two cyborgs said nothing, but leapt from the dais, knocked over the few stragglers in their path on the way out, and began pursuit of their quarry.


End file.
